Don't make me say I Love You
by mintaddiction
Summary: Elizabeth Bennette is a defiant young part-time model. Will Darcy is the wealthy young president of Pemberly Publishers. When Darcy pretends to take the troubled model as his girlfriend to escape negative publicity, who knows what their initial attraction might bring?
1. Introduction

_**Don't Make Me Say 'I Love You'**_

* * *

**Chapter I - The Beginning**

"Last few frames, Lizzy," Mike called out, fiddling with his camera.

The tall brunette in the middle of the floor looked relieved.

"Thank God," she sighed. "My feet are killing me." She glanced at the killer black heels ruefully. "Really now, was there any need-"

"C'mon now Liz, work it!" Mike yelled his camera spinning into action.

The brunette scowled petulantly, then a brilliant smile flashed across her face as she swirled around, her dark eyes dancing and daring. The assistant photographer swallowed and shifted uneasily, transfixed by the prettiness of the girl.

"And…. done!" Mike yelled. "Good job!" he rushed over and grasped her by the hand. "Love what you did with that! Listen, they agency's got a job coming up that I think will suit you, completely – don't worry, it's high fashion – of course, we'd have to go to Barcelona for the shoot of course, but –"

"Mike," Lizzy interrupted, grimacing. "If you don't let me take these bloody death weapons off my feet, I _will_ stand on your foot, _and_ cripple it."

Mike took a few steps back warily. Normally he'd simply tell the tired models not to be ridiculous, but if there was one model who would ever inflict bodily harm onto a photographer…

"Sure," Mike said easily, scratching his head sheepishly. "I'll see you Saturday at my office."

Lizzy saluted him. "Thanks Mike," she grinned as she high fived him and limped off to the changing room.

Lizzy Bennette's, _Elizabeth_ by birth, personality could be described by a stranger in three words. Strong, challenging and stubborn. However, despite these flaws, if she were to be described as a whole in one word, you could only describe her as _beautiful._

True, her flaws were numerous and, if truth be told, unattractive; her temper was too quick, her tongue too sharp, her mind too stubborn. She carried with her complex air of allure and defiance, which was as intimidating as it was interesting. But deep down, beneath the hard, haughty and glamorous shell, she was a loyal, hardworking little soul. Her style was simple – while she found friendships difficult to cultivate, once they were forged, she would defend them to the bitter end. She could be understanding, generous and forgiving – and she loved to laugh, even if it was at her own expense. And most conveniently, she had an ability to charm just about anyone, if she so wished.

Of course, it helped that she was almost devastatingly beautiful. The modelling sphere had quickly grown to adore her for her masses of thick, shiny brown hair that waved gently to the middle of her back, her creamy skin, pale and clear, the only blemish upon it being a beauty spot on her back and a translucent pink scar on the inside of her left arm. Her pink rosebud lips echoed the English courtesan sensuality from centuries ago, voluptuous and delightful in their playfulness. But it could be agreed upon that the most absorbing aspect of her appearance, by some length, were her eyes. Wide-set, hooded and framed by long, dusky lashes that gave her a sultry look, they could sparkle teasingly with decisive laughter, mock displeasure, or darken with desire.

Naturally, then she was also any photographers dream.

Michael Howard had been a dismally unrecognised photographer when stumbled across this raw beauty only a few months ago. He had encountered a dark set of angry eyes as the spilt his Latte down a women's shirt on the street… and gave her the address of his studio for an audition. Ever since that fateful day, he had been on the roller coaster ride of catapulting her to recognition, which was inconveniently hindered by his muse's perverse reluctance to enter the celebrity world. Unconsciously, he scowled and massaged his nose where it had been assaulted by a heavy dictionary flying through the air the last time he'd suggested they relocate to New York, where there was more _exposure_.

"_You've got to be kidding me_," she had scorned derisively.. "_I'm not leaving my sister, my studies and London to go on some crazed goose-chase after my five minutes of fame_. _That's not me, Mike_. _And the faster you come to terms with that, the better. 'Cause I'm not going anywhere._"

_Why was she still determined on finishing university? _he thought miserably. A degree in English Literature was hardly going to enable her to become prettier. But he suppressed his irritation. Since then, he'd been careful not broach the subject again. His nose still tingled in warning whenever he saw her frown.

"Good work, everyone. Sorry if I was a bitch," Lizzy laughed, hugging the team. They clapped her on the back sportingly.

"I don't mind no bitchiness as long as you're gonna make us famous, eh Bennette?" Jay, the hairdresser winked at her.

Lizzy just scoffed "Pride before fall, Jay. Careful now." She accentuated her words with a friendly smirk.

"Well, then, I'll just have to get famous other ways. Maybe now I'll get to unveil that video from the camera I rigged up in your changing room. I hear YouTube's great for publicity?"

Lizzy rolled her eyes. "Maybe then Mike will give up on sending me to America."

"No, I'm sure the Americans have nothing against tall, hot, British chicks," Jay assured her. "You can get a boob job every weekend and party with Paris Hilton."

"Are you suggesting something about my chest?" Lizzy fired.

"Well, as a man-"

"Forget it," she cut in hurriedly, "I'd rather not know."

He laughed. "Take care, Liz."

"See you," she grinned as she stepped out the studio.

* * *

About an hour later, Jane Bennette was shocked out of her indulgent fill of Gossip Girl, when the front door crashed open, and a dishevelled and severely disgruntled Elizabeth stormed into the apartment.

"Hey!" Jane hurried to her sister. "You alright?"

Lizzy shook her head and stomped angrily towards the fridge, muttering furiously and swearing under her breath. She opened the freezer with unnecessary force. "Oh, yes. Everything's just spiffing

"Collins catch you on the way up the stairs again?" Jane asked knowingly, more than a little amused. Her sister looked at her darkly.

"Jane, why is it you always get the nice respectable, if not a little stupid, guys?" Lizzy asked, crossing her arms across her chest. "Is there something about me that attracts dickheads only?"

Jane laughed and ushered her disgruntled sister into the living room sensibly. "Maybe dickheads like the pretty ones," she suggested simply.

"N-o, that is _not_ the correct answer! Far from it. Christ, Jane, I really need to buy you a better mirror." She gave a disbelieving chuckle and tucked her legs beneath her. "See, the things is, guys – the decent ones I mean – fall for my stunning, blonde, generous, sweet and clever twin." She smiled. "I've got to work harder and be nicer and not swear so much to get what you get." She kissed Jane on the cheek, before leaning over to steal a handful of Doritos. "Sorry for taking my frustration out on you. If I show any more symptoms of misdirected rage, feel free to shut me up. You're too good, Jane. You deserve what you get."

"As you do too," Jane said, gripping her sister's hand hard, her light blue eyes imploring. "Don't forget that." She paused. "Lizzy, don't-"

"Don't, Jane." Lizzy said quietly. "Not now. Not ever."

She turned away stiffly for a moment, before breaking out with a nearly convincing smile, the vivacious façade pieced back together. "How about some wine?" she cried jovially, hopping up with the sleekness of a cat. "Let's have a celebration for my doing my first major magazine spread. Mike better be fucking pleased. I sacrificed my feet for him."

Jane let Lizzy down half a bottle, complain loudly about Collins some more, then collapse on the sofa, breathing heavily. She held her twin's hand. They were always so different, light and dark, but complimenting each other perfectly. But like their appearances, their characters, their fates were different – not that Lizzy believed in such a thing, of course. She was the type who did the exact opposite of what the daily horoscope suggested, just to prove a rather useless point. But as Jane looked concernedly at the dark, bruise like marks under her sister's eyes, the collarbones that jutted out alarmingly from beneath her pale skin, she could not help but think that Lizzy's fate was rather dangerous, but had the potential for something great, something remarkable. Leaning down, she whispered into Lizzy's unconscious ear.

"You deserve so much more than you get. Don't blame yourself," she rubbed soothing circles on her sister's palm. Her voice broke as she said, "I wish you'd let me help you forgive yourself."

Jane sighed as she gently tucked a rug around the sleeping Lizzy, and tiptoed to her room, closing the door quietly behind her.

* * *

**Rewritten on 25/07/2013**


	2. The magic of Chanel

**A/N: Here is Chapt two. The eagerly awaited Darcy is now here. Don't worry, I'll get onto the whole girlfriend thing later. I realise this chapter is kind of disjointed from the first chapter. This is more about their first meeting without any prejudice, or expectation. What they would be like if it were simply a boy and girl meeting each other and falling under a fatal attraction. The tension will reappear again in the next chapter.**

**Enjoy.**

**

* * *

**"Morning," said a voice cheerily. Lizzy groaned and rolled onto her front. She sniffed. And again. She sat up.

"Me smells coffee." Jane chuckled.

"You sound like a toddler," she said, handing her a cup. Lizzy inhaled the sweet aroma and sighed happily, her eyes still closed.

"Me likey. Me loves you Janey."

They sat in comfortable silence for a minute, both occupied in their own thoughts. Jane broke the silence first

"Remember the party tonight," she said, sipping her coffee absently. Lizzy blinked.

"What party?"

"That ELLE party you've been invited to. Remember?" Jane sniffed her blonde locks and tossed them over her shoulder. "Bleugh. Remind me to wash my hair before we leave."

Lizzy wrinkled her nose and sneezed.

"What ELLE pa- " Her eyes widened in horror.

"_SHIT!_" she screamed.

* * *

"JANE!" Lizzy's voice floated from the hall, and she skidded into Jane's room, a manic look in her eyes.

"The black strapless or the red halter?" Jane looked at them thoughtfully.

"That one." She pointed to the silky, sweeping red dress with a plunging neckline. "It'll make you feel confident." Lizzy considered this briefly, then chucked the black velvet on her sister's bed, before racing out again. Jane giggled, and returned to wrapping her long, blonde locks carefully around the hot tong.

Back in her own room, Lizzy sat at her mirror. _Breathe, Liz._ She sighed and began to doll herself up.

She checked her hair. Ugh. It was a big, wavy mess. She reached back with a few hairpins, ready to pull it back in a sophisticated twist. Her eyes fell on the dark, blood red dress on the bed. She hesitated, then picked up a can of hairspray and a comb.

Tonight was about being carefree, confident and sexy.

Lizzy separated her brown waves roughly with her fingers, gently twisting a few loose curls. Then, she squirted a few short blasts of hairspray at the roots, and backcombed it lightly for bouncy volume. Perfect.

Next was her makeup. She applied a sparkly grey shadow to her lids, and outlined her sultry eyes with a kohl pencil, and smudged it lightly. She curled her thick lashes and added a few lashings of jet black mascara for a dramatic effect. Her full lips were daringly coloured the same seductive red as her dress, the cupids bow accentuated. Bronzer was lightly applied. Finally, in a moment of pure inspiration, she reached for her bottle of Chanel No.5 and dabbed it in the hollows of her throat.

She turned her back to her reflection, and pulled off her robe absently. Clad in her underwear, she slid her fingers over the light, almost weightless silk of the dress, exploring the tumbling wave of red. She drew the colour inside of her. She wanted to be fearless. She wanted to forget for an evening and just enjoy herself, drink champagne, flirt and laugh. She wanted to forget. She needed to.

She eased the material over her head, careful not to disturb any of her work. The light cloth clung and accentuated the deep dip of her waist, the plunging neckline showed her creamy, sumptuous skin. Her eyes sparkled, almost black.

"Lizzy?" Jane's muffled voice came from the door. "We've got to go in a minute. Mike just called and said he's five minutes away."

"Coming!" she shouted. Afraid of losing her nerve, she resisted the urge to glance in the mirror, and picked up a simple black clutch, slipping her wallet and phone inside. Playfully, she applied a few more spritz of No.5 to the joints of her elbows. She slipped on a pair of unbelievably strappy and tall heels, before shutting the door on the shadowy room.

* * *

Will Darcy felt miserable. He knew from Bingley's apologetic, annoyed, sympathetic and exasperated face that he looked it too. He sighed, and tugged at the collar of his shirt uneasily.

He hated parties… well, that wasn't strictly true. Actually, Will would quite enjoy parties if they were… more to his taste. This highly commercialized and publicized event wasn't exactly his cup of Earl Grey tea.

He drew himself up to his impressive 6'1 height as he witnessed a group hurrying eagerly towards him. _Here we go again,_ he thought, and adopted what he hoped was a convincing smile.

"_Hello_ Mr Darcy! It is _quite_ a surprise to see you here! How _are_ you?" A middle aged woman with rather platinum blonde hair assaulted him rather aggressively.

"Quite well, Mrs Long, and yourself? And your husband?" Will attempted sincerity. These people didn't _mean_ any harm, they just… couldn't help it.

"_Oh,_ Will, how nice of you to ask! We are just getting along _wonderfully._"

"I am glad to hear it."

"Why, you _charming_ young man," she beamed. "Ah, here is Louisa! Louisa, come and greet Mr Darcy!" She waved over her daughter. Will squinted at the sulky figure coming towards him. She was rather dumpy and walked ungracefully. His eyes drifted to Mrs Long's disconcerting grin, and he shivered. _To hell with sincerity._

"Mrs Long, pleasure to se you again, and meeting your charming daughter. However, I just spied someone I am anxious to discuss business with, so if you'll excuse me…"

"Why, of course! I shan't detain the important CEO of Pemberly Publishers on any business, oh _no_!" Will sighed in relief, and began to edge away but was stopped by the women's surprisingly strong grip on her arm. "But, you must allow me to properly introduce you to Louisa afterwards. She has read many books, I'm sure you two will have a perfectly thrilling conversation."

Will grimaced. _Why did God make mothers?_

"Of course. It would be my pleasure." She grinned and let go of his arm, and he shot away, but not quite quickly enough to escape hearing her comments…

"Such a handsome man! I am telling you now, Louisa, come with me and I will retouch your makeup – ah! No excuses! We simply _must_ get some blush on those pasty cheeks…"

Will hurried away, shuddering slightly and moving his tall frame surprisingly quickly through the crowd. He glanced around. His friend Charles Bingley was being similarly assaulted by a botox ridden mother. Seeing that the girl was sufficiently unattractive for Charlie to be in any real danger (too much fake tan and spidery false eyelashes) he ducked out the edge of the massive white marquee. He relaxed as he inhaled the light breeze, enjoying its cooling sensation. A young blonde with shiny white teeth and a robust tanned man passed him on the path. He smiled politely at them as the entered the marquee. It was a remarkably warm, late summer evening, the air humid and hanging oppressively. Will ran his hand around the nape of his neck and sighed, closing his eyes He breathed deeply again. The air had a faint floral smell. He sniffed again. It was pleasant.

"Ahem." Will's eyes snapped open. He felt irritated.

"Can I help-" He stopped dead.

In front of him was an unbelievably attractive young woman. She was… not _hot_ (Will hated that word… it sounded so degrading) not merely pretty, but wholesomely, almost painfully _beautiful_.

The breathtaking sight before him was arranged in a clinging, elegant dark red dress that contrasted brilliantly with her pale, porcelain, translucent skin. That creamy skin seemed to glow in the late summer sun. Her dark brown hair again contrasted with the whiteness of her skin, it fell in heavy waves against her face, framing it perfectly. Her eyes were perfectly shaped, and framed with dark, thick lashes, that brushed against the tops of her cheeks as she looked down. Her full lips were pushed upwards in a light smirk_._

"A big fan of the Chanel No.5, are we now?" She smiled slyly.

"I-I-I'm afraid I don't know what you're referring too," he stuttered. Mortified, he now realised what had happened.

"Let me tell you a story then. One evening, I arrived fashionably late to a party and as I run up the path, I almost trip over a certain gentleman. Instead of doing the _gentlemanly _thing and letting the lady past, he closed his eyes and smelled my neck. And the only non-perverted conclusion I can draw from this little scenario is that he rather enjoys the wonderful invention from Coco Chanel. What's your take on this?" Her eyes were black as onyx and glittered as she turned her head up towards him.

"Well, as a completely unbiased third party observer, I have to say that if the lady in question had arrived less fashionably, but rather more punctually, this scenario could've been avoided." He smiled right in her lovely face.

"But surely this still counts as assault? A crime?" she fired back.

"The only sin here is by you, for looking so captivating tonight." He executed a mock bow.

She laughed. "Trust a man to turn an interesting conversation to flattery."

"Was it a conversation? I was under the impression it was more of a verbal duel."

"It certainly was intense, but I feel I must now drop all the charges laid against you."

"My sincere thanks for your generosity. Would you allow me to repay you with a glass of champagne?" He took her hand temptingly. Her skin flowed like pure, white silk against his own more tanned hand. She cocked her head to the side and looked up at him. Her sultry eyes held his for one long, immeasurable moment. The air hung heavier around them both, making the light material of their clothes cling closer to their bodies.

"Show me the way, Mr…"

"Darcy. Call me Will…"

"Lizzy. Lizzy Bennette. Well, is the victim going to get her champagne or not?"

Will replied only with a smile and led this glittering girl back under the shade of the marquee.

Will marvelled at the sensation of his large hand on the small of Lizzy's back, with only the weightless material of her sensual dress hanging between his fingers and the creaminess of her skin. He wondered idly how the evening could've turned from an oppressing, dull evening into the opposite so quickly. He glanced quickly at the sparkling creature beside him and knew why it had. He stopped a passing waiter quickly and took two flutes of champagne. He cocked an eyebrow as he turned to her, his hand unwillingly ungluing itself from her back.

"Toast to your merciful nature, Miss Bennette."

"Who said I was a Miss?" He gaped at her, for a moment. She shifted her gaze to the passing throng and sipped the amber fluid calmly.

"Considering the lack of a gold band on a certain finger, no marks of domestic abuse, figure not ruined by having a child, I'd say the evidence is open for everyone to see." He mirrored her disinterested expression. "Oh, and also, no right-thinking husband would let his spouse wear that dress to such a gathering."

"My attire does not please you, Mr Darcy?" She gave an expression of mock resentment.

"You misunderstand me. Let me rephrase. No sane husband would let a women with looks like yours wear a such an… _accentuating_ dress to an environment where many eligible, bored, young gentlemen are bound to be." He smirked, leaned forward and whispered, "In response to your question, Lizzy, you are quite wrong. Your appearance pleases me _greatly_. You look sensational." He watched satisfied as a faint blush crept up her pale neck. But she was not one to swoon at any small compliment, he had learned already.

"You think yourself an eligible young gentleman, Mr Darcy? I have thought many things of you since we met, but after that comment, I am rethinking if I should call you a _gentle_man or not."

Will could not help but wonder what she had been thinking of him. This girl certainly was no meek, flattering violet. She was strong, flirtatious and witty. He was intrigued.

"Tell me, Lizzy, what do you do for a living?"

"I have various professions."

"For instance?"

"Modelling is takes up most of the space on my paycheck. But I also tutor, waitress, and coach a netball team. But most prominently, I am a university student."

A model. That was not really a surprise. He glanced over her admiringly again. But her other jobs were a surprise. Will, a perceptive person, sensed a story behind it, a story this sparkling girl fought to keep inside, a history she fought alone. He could tell…

"And you, Will? What do you do?"

He blinked, shaken out his thoughts. "I'm the head of a publishing company."

"Really? Which one?"

"Pemberly Publishers."

She snorted quietly. Will looked at her inquisitively.

"The majority of the books for my course are from your company," she explained.

"And what course would that me?"

"English Lit at LSE*. I was at Oxford, but I dropped out as LSE is more convenient for modelling."

She leaned past him to put her empty glass on the table. Will realised they had moved during their conversation. Starting off facing each other, they had inched unconsciously closer and closer until now she was leaning against a support column, and he was standing right up against her, the hem of her dress flooding over his shoes. He wasn't going to let this opportunity past.

"Do you dance?" He gestured over his shoulder at the middle of the floor, where a space had been cleared, and a good number of couples were already slow dancing.

"Are you asking me to dance?" she asked seriously. All their playful mood escaped.

"Yes. I am." He held out his hand.

Her eyes never left his as she slid her fingers into his.

He guided her onto the floor. The band had struck up a slow, lazy jazz melody. He placed his hands around the deep dip of her waist. Her arms automatically entwined around his neck. There was a buzz of loud whispers around the edge of the dance floor. The solo saxophone crooned gently as they fell into rhythm. Her fingers tentatively stroked the back of his neck. He shivered, and gently caressed her back. They danced in silence, holding each other's gaze. He leaned closer into her as he clasped her firmer. Her arms tightened around his neck, and they drew each other closer, as if in a trance, their eyes sliding closed. Will deliciously felt her warm lips melt against his. He sighed against her mouth. She tasted of raspberries. Her lips were lusciously soft, her actions almost shy. He wanted to protect her, and he kissed her again, even more feelingly. As she willingly parted her lips, Will knew he was caught. He was in heaven.

* = London School of Economics

* * *

**A/N: Hope you all enjoyed that. This is supposedly my romantic chapter. For those who think that this chapter's Lizzy doesn't correspond with last chapter's more vulnerable Lizzy, remember that this was a night she wanted to be confident and forget her worries, and just go out there and see what happens. And then, she meets Will and… you guys know the rest **** Oh, and when they were kissing, it seems like she's almost shy, like the playfulness she had when she was talking to Will before can't exist when she lets her emotions take over her.**

**I had a hard time writing this chapter, so I hope it turned out OK. Tell me if you have any criticisms or compliments… I accept both! So please feel free to review! **


	3. Guard your heart

**Hello again.**

**I have to say, I am happy with this chapter. Very. But before you read, I should probably tell you that I am deviating COMPLETELY from the original story line... I think there are so many retellings of this story that follow Austen's story line so devotedly that I wouldn't be able to write it and feel original.**

**So just warning you all.**

**Read on.**

**

* * *

**"_S'cuse me-_"

"OH MY FREAKING GOD, that did _not _just happen!"

"You saw, right? I couldn't believe – ah, he's so dreamy!"

"He smiled too – did you see him smile?"

"He wasn't smiling at you, stupid."

"_Sorry can I squeeze pas-"_

"Anyone know who that lucky bitch was?"

"His… girlfriend?"

"No freaking way! I read in _OK!_ reported he was on a date with some blonde American chick last month."

"_Look, move ov-"_

"That girl back there was pretty though."

"God, you're so _naïve._ I could detect her nose job a mile off. Probably had her cheekbones shaved too."

"_For fucks sake! _Get out my _fucking_ way!"

Mike glared impressively at the gossiping female congregation. They quietened and parted silently.

"_Thank _you," he growled and pushed past impatiently, and shoved his way past. There was a troubled furrow on his brow. He had bigger things to worry about.

Hurriedly, he ducked out from the edge of the white marquee and smoothly marched down the manicured lawn, into the brightly lit hotel. The marble floor reflected the spotlights harshly. His shoes tapped uncomfortably loud on the shiny surface, as he slowed his pace. He dithered uncomfortably to a halt outside the Ladies Toilet. He scowled at the impassive door, before clearing his throat and calling out.

"Lizzy?" There was no response.

"Uh… You in there? I saw you, like, staggering away unevenly like you had a limp, so I got worried and followed."

There was still no sound from within.

"C'mon Liz, don't play like this. I don't mean to sound like a kranky middle aged man, but if you don't come out and explain yourself in ten seconds I'll… I'll… well, you'll see what I'll do. Come on out."

A few tensed seconds passed. Mike grimaced at the innocently white door. _Well, no other choice._ He squared his shoulders and marched in.

"Now then Liz, mind explaining to me that little _encounter_ of yours out th – _what the fuck?"_

The long haired brunette he addressed was draped over the bowl of a slippery sink, her fingers weakly gripping the edges. Her skin was paler than usual, giving her a drawn, sickly look. Her dull eyes looked like intense indigo bruises against the whiteness of her face. Mike gaped speechless at his model's ghostly form.

"Wha-what did that son-of-a-bitch _do_ to you?" He quickly reached her and supported her body. Her eyes focussed on him slightly.

"Answer me, Liz. What the fuck did that wanker _Darcy_ do to you?" His face was contorted in anger. "What did he give you?"

"I-I-don't-I…I…" Her confused voice trailed off. Her eyelids slid groggily shut again.

Mike carefully placed a hand on her forehead, and satisfied himself she didn't have a fever. He then lifted her onto the granite ledge. She shivered violently and moaned as her bare skin on her back and arms made contact with the cold surface.

"Shhh…" he whispered encouragingly, stroking the edge of a pale cheek. She fell silent obediently. Her breathing was a little irregular.

"I'll be back in a minute. Don't move," he told the still figure.

Again, there was no response.

Will Darcy was occupied with pleasant thoughts. He twirled one of the two flutes of champagne around in his fingers absentmindedly. He imagined he could see the faint imprint of her lips against the clear glass. Unconsciously, his other hand reached up and touched is own mouth in memory. He looked around. She wasn't back yet. He smiled, and stuck his hands boyishly in his pockets, feeling very much like he was in his awkward teenage years again.

"Will Darcy!" A voice, alarmingly loud, roused him. He turned. A tanned, broad man was heading his way. He took his hands from his pockets and assumed an expressionless face.

"That is my name."

"I need you to take Elizabeth Bennette home," the stranger said bluntly. His face too was carefully devoid of expression.

"Li-Elizabeth?" Will frowned from the odd request. "I was under the impression Miss Bennette was _old_ enough to make her own decisions."

"Not in the state she's currently in. She needs to go home immediately."

Will hesitated. He didn't know quite how to respond.

"I have no problem with that proposition-"

"Good. It's sorted then-"

"-but I don't know if you are aware of the fact that, although most of the crowd here tonight assume we are… _long term acquaintances_, I only had the pleasure of meeting Elizabeth tonight."

The man raised his sandy eyebrows.

"So, although I will happily help if needed, I am unsure if Elizabeth would feel sufficiently _comfortable_ if it was I, not a closer friend, who was taking care of her. You seem to be quite acquainted with her – perhaps she would feel more assured if it were a long-time friend assisting her…" He trailed to a stop, not sure how to proceed.

"If what you suggested was an option, I would've taken her home without even telling you we're leaving. As it is, you are the only choice." He smirked. "I don't know if you know this, but Elizabeth is a model, and given the publicity of this event, I can't let her come to media attention in this state. Will you help her escape quietly, Darcy?"

Will saw no other option. "Of course. She can count on me," he said simply.

"Glad to hear it." The man turned to go.

Will paused. "Do I know you?" he asked warily.

The man looked at him coolly, dislike evident in his eyes. "No. But from what I saw tonight, you know her."

Will rapped on the door smartly. He was greeted with silence.

"Miss Bennette?" Was that too formal? He wasn't sure what he should address this vibrant girl as. Elizabeth? It too sounded too stiff and formal. He was suddenly reminded of his Aunt Baldacchino when she trilled '_WillllIIIIIAAAm' _in her nasally voice. Should he call her Lizzy? Or was that presuming they were more intimate than they actually were? He pressed him ear to the door. He couldn't hear anything.

"Lizzy… it's Will. Will Darcy. I think your, eh, friend, or manager – something – asked me to take you home. I hear you're feeling ill."

The door bounced open abruptly and Will took a step backwards.

"Oh." A small redhead and a dull blonde haired girl appeared, curiously taking in his appearance. They giggled. Will felt his face once again put on an indifferent expression. They continued to shrilly giggle, as they scurried away, clutching each other.

"_That was Will Darcy!"_

"_Duh!"_ They collapsed into a renewed shrieking frenzy. Will feigned interest in a framed picture on the wall.

"_He's so hot!"_

"_Was that him calling on someone?"_

"_Think so. Wait. Is that passed out girl in there that chick he snogged earlier?"_

"_What… Oh yeah! Ohmygod, she's sooooo lucky!"_

"_Maybe that's why she's in there all passed out! He's such a good kisser, she got totally, like, overwhelmed and just fainted!"_

"_I'd probably do the same! Do you think he used tongue? Don't you think he'd be such a good pull?"_

"_Shuddup, moron! He's still right there!" _

He frowned. Lizzy was unconscious? She had seemed perfectly alright when she had excused herself. He waited impatiently until the two girls unwilling rounded the corner, and walked directly into the toilet. He prepared himself for the sight.

She was seated along the granite worktop, half sitting, half collapsed again the row of mirrors. Her body was completely still, the folds of her red dress spilled onto the floor, creating a carpet of silk. Only her eyelids twitched uneasily, as though they were moving frantically under her tightly shut lids. She looked defenceless, her shoulders huddled up, and her face half hiding behind a thick curtain of brown waves. Uncertainly he approached. He touched her skin lightly and winced. She was ice cold. He shrugged out his suit jacket and carefully draped it around her shoulders, one of his large hands supporting her back as he cushioned the material behind her. Her body lost some of its tension, and she relaxed more into the cloth, still warm from his own body. Her eyelids were now still. Will took out his phone, and placed it to his ear. He used his free hand to warm her stiff fingers.

"It's me. Please bring the car around immediately, soon as you can. Bring it to the back car-park of the hotel. I'll meet you there. Yes. Of course. Thanks." He slid the phone shut. The sharp sound echoed strangely in the empty room. Lizzy shifted and muttered. He leant over her.

"Lizzy… Lizzy." He continued to rub her hands. She frowned slightly, and pulled her eyes open with what looked like tremendous effort. Her eyes were clouded and vulnerable.

"It's Will. I need to take you home, so you can leave unnoticed." He traced circular patterns on her palm soothingly. "Can you sit up?"

His words seem to take a while to sink in. Her eyes flicked slowly from him to her body, to the floor, before returning to his face. She inched slowly forwards, attempting to rise. Her every movement seemed to use so much energy. Will looked at her. Her face was slightly creased with silent determination. She was exhausted. Rapidly, he bent down and collected her in is arms. He was cautious not to straighten up to quickly. She made a small noise of surprise.

"Just rest," he muttered. He determinedly avoided her stare, and used his back to push open the door. With every step, he was painfully aware of the jolt, or unevenness of his steps. He hoped he wasn't causing her any pain. They approached a black Benz.

"Adams." He nodded at the man opening the door. "Shall we leave?"

"Sure." He made no comment about the pretty brunette with her face turned into his employer's chest. "When you're ready," he said simply, the trace of a grin in his voice.

Will lowered her onto the leather upholstery, and quickly sat in beside her. He positioned her head against his shoulder for support.

"Let's go."

The car engine started, growling faintly. As they passed under a streetlight, he looked over at the hunched up figure. In the blast of light, he saw the clear sparkle of her eyes as she stared wordlessly at him. Her eyes held his with an expression of absolute trust. His throat went dry at the intensity of her gaze. The car went dark again. As they reached the next lamp, he saw her serene expression. She was asleep.

It could've just been his imagination.

Will quietly shut the door to his apartment with his foot. In the darkness, he slowly walked to the living-room and placed her on the sofa. His arms felt strangely light without her weight. As he stepped back, he felt a small tug on his shirt. He glanced down. Her fingers were wrapped around the edge of his shirt. His eyes trailed slowly over her slender wrist, along her arms, roving eagerly over their uninterrupted whiteness. The darkness, and her unconsciousness, worked strangely upon her beauty. There was a certain vulnerability about the slight furrow of her brow, the clinging way her fingers were wrapped possessively around the hem of his shirt. His eyes fed hungrily upon her fragile looking neck, the dip of her collarbone. She moved uneasily in her sleep, and turned her face towards him, her eyes still closed. Her long brown hair was tousled. Her full lips parted slightly, and she moaned lightly. It was a sensual sight. Will swallowed and shifted his weight from one leg to the other. He cleared his throat, half hoping she would wake from her drugged stupor. She didn't. He gently removed the fingers from his shirt. The hand fell without complaint. He took one last greedy look at the exquisite creature and left the room.

The light pricked Lizzy's eyelids uncomfortably. She moaned. A smooth surface stuck to the edge of her face. She inhaled deeply. The scent of polished leather filled her nostrils. She coughed.

"Jane," she called. There was no answer. Her voice was hoarse. She cleared her throat and tried again.

"Jane…"

"She's not here." A controlled, masculine voice cut through the air.

Confusion flooded through her mind. She sat up, and winced at the poundings in her head. She squinted at the doorway. She recognised the figure standing on the threshold.

"You're awake," came the same reserved tone.

"Yes. I am," she replied simply.

There was a full silence. She prodded her memory desperately. She remembered their… interlude. And she had drink. Not that much. Champagne. It had made him taste delicious. He tasted of summer. After their dance, they'd retreated to a table. He had made her laugh. She had admired the smooth marble of his brow, the velvet tones to his voice. She had some more champagne, on the house. And then…

She remembered.

"You remember my name at least." Will raised his eyebrows. "Quite an achievement."

"Not the brightest, are you? Remember, you introduced yourself _before_ you slipped that delightful substance into my champagne. A point to revise if you prefer to remain anonymous on your next expedition." Her tone was tight and careful. Her head still throbbed.

He moved closer to her, his arms folded across his chest protectively. "I did no such thing. Do you really think I would stoop that low?"

"Oh, isn't it an all too common story? These high profile men taking advantage of whomever they please, trusting their PR team to tidy up behind them?" She sat straighter and glared at him, the harsh morning light throwing shadows into the hollow of her eyes. Her prominent jawline jutted. "Don't think me naïve, Mr Darcy. My daddy raised me to be a clever little girl."

"And yet you are still a little girl who ought to watch her tongue." His nails dug into his arms. "_I _took you to safety Miss Bennette. You ought to be _thanking_ me rather than practically accusing me of _rape._"

"Oh, where are my manners? Thanks you, oh almighty Darcy, for not leaving me on the floor to rot! Thank you for taking me to your home and making me unable to remember what happened there! Oh, I should be your slave for life… _Do_ let me smother my face against you ass…"

"This is no joking situation!" Will pulled her up to face him. Her angry gaze met his own. "Are you suggesting I _took advantage_ of you?"

"What else can I derive from this situation?"

"A man helping a woman in need!"

"A woman who has a sister _and_ a manager to take sufficient care of her."

"A woman whose sister and manager were miraculously non-existent and unavailable at the time of crisis, so I took on the obligation voluntarily!"

"Oh, I'm sure you volunteered very quickly! Think of it, I barely interacted with anyone apart from you. Who are you going to place the blame on, almighty businessman Darcy? The bartender? The server? A random man who passed our table? Slip the judge a few juicy bank notes, and I'm sure they'll get a life sentence, minimum!"

"You use a stereotype to classify me? Are you so eager to heap the blame on someone else other than yourself that you are willing to completely overthrow your first impression of a man with this hideous image? Are you just attempting to cover your own part in this whole affair?"

"You forget that I am the _victim_ here, and not the _offender_!"

"Have you never heard about false accusations? I have been surrounded by enough scheming woman in my life that I know their superficial desires well! How can I not suspect you of ingesting the substance yourself? A court case with a well known high profile man would certainly catapult you to front page in many trashy newspapers. Or, even better, using this unfounded accusation to blackmail the man into a relationship from which you reap fame and recognition!"

"You think so highly of yourself, Mr Darcy. You think the whole world should worship you because of your wealth and rank? You think you can stand and sneer at those born without your advantages and laugh at them all as 'social climbers'? Oh, he enrolled in college, what an attention seeking fucker! He should just go and fucking starve and rot in the fucking streets like all the other fuckers – cause that's how God almighty intended it! You're such a fucking hypocrite – the only one who really cares about their public image is _you_! You're the one who won't even condescend to pull your head out you ass and shake hands with anyone not living in a bloody castle! I've seen you on the tabloids, and all you do is look like you're either bored as shit, or look like you're about to die from getting diseases from people who do their own laundry!"

"_Dear_ Miss Bennette, I know myself to be free of all blame, which leaves me to wonder why you are asking this way. Are you so scared to commitment that you cannot handle a brief encounter with a man who may have not even given you a second thought? What kind of warped and twisted background did you grow up in?"

"Again insulting my lower class origins!"

"_You_ talked about the typical situation of a corrupt business man – then let _me_ tell you another common situation about women! Oh, yes, this may sound familiar Miss Bennette. A young woman, longing after the glamorous life, seduces a well positioned man, with her eyes upon his fortune. Did you think I would let you use me to sleep your way to the top? Did you come to the party with the intention of finding a high profile boyfriend to further your own celebrity reputation?" The handsome planes of his countenance sneered. "Tell me, Miss Bennette, how much did you estimate my fortune is? More than a million pounds? Oh, no I have underestimated you, haven't I, I do apologise. More around, thirty, no forty million, am I ri-"

A sound slap whipped across his cheek. The right side of his face felt numb. He felt the area. It burned. He looked accusingly at her. The fire had died from her eyes. He detected the vulnerability again, the weakness she fought to hide. The sad eyes clouded with moisture and tears begun to flood silently down her cheeks. Her eyes were melancholy.

"You bastard," she whispered.

There was a pregnant silence.

"_You_ were born with an inheritance on your brow, Mr Darcy, and a sound future in front of you. I have worked _twice_ as hard as you have to get where I am. This dress," she plucked the material between her fingers, "was bought before I was in the modelling industry, from two months worth of pay checks from four different jobs. I walked home in the rain and sang and danced, so happy that I held the bag between my fingers." She looked directly at him, an eerie tranquillity descending upon her. "I feel sorry for you, Mr Darcy, because you will never achieve these types of emotions."

Lizzy tore her eyes away from his unreadable expression. She wiped her cheeks with the back of her hand. Without looking back at him, she walked out of his line of sight. He heard the uneven tap of her shoes on the floor. The sound of the front door reached him.

It was an image he couldn't forget. A girl huddled in a red dress She looked lost and betrayed as she wiped the translucent tear tracks from her cheeks with a trembling hand.

Lizzy leant against the heavy door. She did not move. Her closed eyelids twitched as a single pearly tear rolled noiselessly down her face and splashed against the polished floor. She imagined she could hear the impact of the liquid shattering on the marble, breaking into a million droplets.

_This is why you keep your heart to yourself. As you always have. As you always will._

_

* * *

_**REVIEW! please... I ADORE reviews (this is my first story on the website)**

**What do you guys think of my plot? Like it, or is it not to your tastes? **

**And, IMPORTANT QUESTION... **

**should I have a Wickham in my story? I am undecided at the moment.**

**Love, Mintxxx  
**


	4. How Much?

Lizzy grumbled rapped her nails impatiently against the granite counter as she waited impatiently for her coffees. She rubbed the back of her neck, trying to relieve the tension in her body. She felt on the edge. Several times on the short journey from their apartment to the cozy little café two blocks away, she had become aware of a speculative silence that was she was greeted with by random passersby. She glanced down at her appearance quickly. Satisfied that she appeared decent at least, she turned to scowl heavily at the woman sitting at the window peeking at her over the top of her papers. She stretched and yawned widely. Muttering darkly about the incompetence of the staff, she wandered over to the magazine racks. She reached to pick up the latest copy of Cosmopolitan (she was rather proud of a spread featuring herself in a white dress in it) before she froze. She blinked rapidly. And again. She rubbed her eyes ferociously. _Oh God, please let me wake up. _She dared a look from between her lashes_. Oh no. _She snatched the newspaper up. Sweat began to gather on her forehead. A prickling sense of dread filled her. She looked slowly again at the front page of the paper the woman in the window held. And back at the trashy print in her hands.

"_National Heartthrob Will Darcy Falls in Love __(continued on page 7)__"_

She rifled manically to page 7. She swallowed loudly. _I'm screwed_, she thought, her fingers boring holes into the article.

Taking up the majority of the two page spread was a snapshot of a brunette in a red dress wrapped around a tall, handsome man, their lips pressed together. She flipped over the page quickly. Fuck.

A picture of the same brunette leaving the shiny foyer of a swanky apartment block, scowling into the morning sunlight, shamefully wearing last night's dress.

_Oh crap._

_

* * *

_

"She's late," Will snapped, glaring at the sandy haired man from the night before. Mike shrugged lazily, appearing calm

"She'll come. Just wait."

Will sighed tiredly and picked up the crumpled paper from the table again, reading it disdainfully.

"_Britain's most sought after bachelor, one Will Darcy who has captured many ladies hearts, found himself playing with fire, as the normally reserved gentleman displayed some deliciously passionate PDA in the annual _ELLE_ celebratory party at Hilton, London. His lucky lady was unveiled to be Lizzy Bennette, the up-and-coming young model who is rumoured to become the new face of Burberry for the upcoming season. The pair, who was reported to have seduced each other rather outrageously, was soon not to be found as the night drew on, eliciting sly smirks from the crowd, who gossiped lightly about a steamy rendezvous in the honeymoon suite of the hotel. Little did they know that their speculation fell not far from the truth, as a certain dishevelled brunette was snapped walking hurriedly in last night's dress out of a Darcy's London penthouse in the day after. Spotted: Mr D's lover doing the walk of shame in the early hours of the morning. Could a possible relationship be on the horizon, or is this long-legged beauty to be put as another addition onto the charming William's rumoured long list of one-night-stands? We'll have to wait and see…"_

A loud slam brought him back to the present. He folded up the paper rigidly and cast it to the side. He looked up, his eyes unreadable.

"Miss Bennette." He acknowledged her presence with a stiff nod. He smiled to himself when he noticed a little coffee coloured smudge on her white tank top. She narrowed her eyes when she noticed his smirk and stared him down rather coldly.

"Mr Darcy." She turned to face Mike.

"You. I demand a word." Her gaze positively crackled.

"Be back in a second," he drawled as he followed her from the room. "Well?"

She exploded.

"Don't play innocent!" she shrieked. Mike felt his eardrums rattle. "Why did you leave me with tha-that _prick_ last night? _He_ put that thing in my drink! He could've been a-a _rapist_! A murderer even! I could be lying dead in a ditch! And now, I'm on the front page of The Sun dubbed as this week's whore! You better have some convincing excuses, Mr. Can I remind you that the Dean of the university is probably choking on his buttered organic toast right now? And, now, you drag me from my apartment telling me you've got a way to clean things up – and bring me to _him_? What are you planning to do, sell me? I-I-" She ran out of breath and broke off, her scowl never leaving her face.

"Firstly, don't frown, gives you premature wrinkles." He smoothed out her brow with his fingers. "I make money from this face, remember." She jerked her head away, the fire rekindling in her eyes.

"Is that all you have to say? _Wrinkles?_" she half screeched, resisting the urge to kick him in the balls. "Really, Mike? I thought you were a smoother talker than that."

"I answered your question." Mike calmly surveyed her, as she dropped her arms, looking confused. "I make money from your face. This issue is sure to boost your fame and recognition – I've already received several calls from agencies this morning-"

"Are you shitting me? My reputation is broken! The only work I can do now is dress up in black leathers and a whip for sleazy porn magazines! I never thought you would go so far – I should quit right now! I'll just go back to my studies and you can just go and fu-"

"Listen to yourself," he broke in sharply. He grabbed her roughly by her slender shoulders. "Don't act like you can just abandon my whenever you feel like it. Do you remember how many shoots I had to find for you the last time your family landed in trouble? Do you remember how hard you had to work to make the ends meet? Do you remember how you couldn't have done it without my assistance and influence? Do you-"

"I remember." Lizzy fiddled with a strand of hair, not meeting his eyes.

"I'm just safeguarding you for the future, just in case," he added gently, tilting her head up. Her eyes were clouded. "It's for your own good. And, I didn't leave you, Liz. I thought of this brilliant business strategy, but I couldn't decide whether or not to let him take you home. I mean, what if he hurt you?" Lizzy was surprised to see his own face looking troubled. He bit his lip. "I spent the whole night outside the building, walking up and down. I had the people in the apartment below look out for any raised voices or loud noises. I was worried that…" He looked down. "If he did anything, it'd be partly my fault." There was a long pause.

"Let's go back inside." Lizzy refused to look at him as she shrugged his hands away from her shoulders. "They're waiting." Mike nodded and followed her back into the dimly lit room.

Will looked up as she re-entered the room and sat down quietly, slouching a little. Smith looked at him inquisitively. He nodded at him. Smith cleared his throat loudly and stood up straight. The whole room tensed.

"Miss Bennette," he began, "I assume you are aware of the, er, articles that have surfaced recently, about last night's events?"

She nodded.

"Well, this meeting has been quickly organised to try and work out an… agreement on how to proceed regarding this matter." He shifted his weight uneasily. "We hope to achieve a… _compromise_ on how to treat the speculation that must come from this-"

"I don't want anything from him." Will glanced at her quickly. Her face was pale and she frowned slightly.

"I know you, Mr Darcy, and all of your… um, squad," she said, gesturing awkwardly his stony faced PR team. Will laughed at her word choice. "think I want some kind of compensation to shut my mouth. But what I really want is just for everyone to forget this matter as soon as possible."

"Liz-" Mike began.

"I know what you're going to say," she cut quietly. "I know it's for my own good. But, frankly, this whole affair is humiliating. I don't want to get anything from it. I want it over and done with," she stated firmly.

Smith paused. This was not the reaction they'd expected.

"In that case, Miss Bennette, we shall let out the story that you and William were… romantically involved for some period of time, so it does not appear that you and him were…"

"So people don't think their beloved pretty boy is a man-whore, yeah I know." She smirked lightly.

Smith smiled thinly. "Glad you understand. Now, if there are no further issues, we should draw up the article to-"

"Leave us." The voice was full of hard authority. Lizzy turned in shock to the man at the head of the table. He toyed with his pen, avoiding the stares. "I have something to discuss with Li-Miss Bennette."

Lizzy gaped at him as the austere faced people filed out. Mike placed a hand lightly on her shoulder.

"I'll be right outside if you need me." He left and there door shut with a heavy thud.

There was an uncomfortable silence.

Will looked at her unflinchingly over the table. She held his gaze, her chin jutting out to show she wasn't intimidated. The air crackled with their intensity. He stood up and slowly walked around towards her.

"Don't you wish to know what I have to say to you, Lizzy?" He smirked at her discomfort in his change in manner.

"Not really, no." She feigned indifference. "I thought I made my wishes quite clear."

"But what if I desire more than what you have on offer?" he said softly. He inched closer to her. Will saw the slight pout of her lip and he felt his desire rise. _Even if she's scheming and sly, she's looks lovely._ He had intended on seducing her slightly to get her to agree to the compromise he was going to propose, but he found himself distracted by the slender length of her legs, encased perfectly in faded skinny jeans, by the soft fullness of her mouth, by the wrinkled tank top that showcased her miniscule waist and left him to wonder what beauty it hid under the thin material. He saw the slight attraction in her eyes, and he gazed at her pale face in triumph.

Lizzy struggled. _Concentrate, Liz, he's just a stupid idiot, remember that_. She saw his brown eyes melting slightly, loosing some of their hardness. _OK, a sexy idiot, but forget about that. _Her eyes trailed down his arms. _Muscular too._ She remembered for a moment how safe she had felt inside those iron arms. She sneaked a glance up and saw a glint of triumph in his eyes. She felt the anger bubbling like lava in her chest again, hotter than before. _This is what he wants. He wants to confuse you, just to get what he needs, just like a spoilt child._

"I don't bargain, Mr Darcy. You take what you get offered, and that's all I'm willing to give you."

Will took a step back. "Unfortunately, I have too much on the line to be satisfied by that," he retorted, frustration creeping into his voice. His plan to confuse her hadn't worked. "I have a proposition." She raised her eyebrows.

"What makes you think I'll agree?" she said archly. He scowled.

"Just let me finish. There have been too many reports of relationships between myself and various women over the past few years, though most of them are created without foundation. As a result, there has been speculation that I have broken many hearts, and my public image has, let's say, been not so favourable as it has been. I cannot let this projection of my supposed character reflect upon my company, which has been handed down to me from my family. I cannot be the one to ruin Pemberly Publishers. So now, I am offering you something." He paused. "It is about time I should try to redeem my name. I would like you to pretend to be romantically linked to me for a period of time. This should dissolve rumours about my supposed womanizing practices. You as a model and a conscientious student, clever enough to be accepted into Oxford, have a clean enough reputation. And you are fairly well loved by the public. It should be a tolerable arrangement."

"So, you are asking me to be your fake girlfriend?" She laughed bitterly. "What makes you think I would agree? Didn't I say I want this matter to be forgotten? Don't you remember our argument this morning? What makes you think we would be able to even remotely get along for 5 days, let alone 5 months?"

"I forget to mention the incentive for you. You would be well compensated for this pretence, of course. I will provide double the financial support than you get modelling and your other jobs combined."

"Again, you think I'm after your money." Lizzy rubbed the bridge of nose. "Mr Darcy, I want nothing more to do with you, I think I made that quite clear, despite whatever there is in it for me. I stick by the original plan." She leaned over and snatched her bag from her chair.

"Trust me, Miss Bennette, you will change your mind soon. When that time comes, probably during the course of the week, call my office and we can discuss the terms."

"Goodbye, Mr Darcy." Lizzy seethed as she watched the tall man wave her away lazily.

"See you around, Miss Bennette."

* * *

Lizzy slowly ascended the stairs to their apartment. She banished the conversation from her mind by counting the steps. 103. 104. 105. 106. 107. 108. She sighed as she saw welcoming sight of their rather battered green front door in the dimly lit hallway. Glowering at the newspaper that lay on the doormat, she clattered noisily through the door.

"Janey, want to get take out?" she called, kicking off her Converse All Stars and shuffling along in her penguin socks. "Let's watch a movie with Hugh Grant in it, or just-"

"Elizabeth." A cold voice struck her. She was rooted to the spot. There was a flash of blonde hair as Jane gently came to her side.

"I tried to take them out, but they insisted on staying," she whispered. "I'm sorry, Lizzy." Lizzy patted her sister's shoulder stiffly. She turned reluctantly to the figures in the living room.

"Mum."

"It's Mrs Nigel to you."

Jane bristled at this treatment of her twin. "Mum, really it's completely wrong of you to-"

"Jane, I hope she's not been causing you any trouble has she?"

"What?" Jane spluttered. "Of course not! She's my sister, my twin, we help each other-"

"What do you need now?" Lizzy cut brusquely across. Her face became a few shades paler that normal. Mrs Nigel regarded her coldly and turned to Jane.

"Is there anything to eat? Me and the girls are starving."

"You can eat at your own house, surely." Lizzy interrupted. "Or have you hit an all time low that you have to beg for food that's tainted by the daughter you've always hated so much?"

"It's better than sinking into prostitution. Tell me, Elizabeth, how much did Will Darcy pay you to escort him?" Her lip curled unpleasantly as she said her daughter's name. One of her sisters hovering in the background giggled.

"Lydia, shut up. Mother, I demand you either leave Lizzy alone, or leave right now. She's had a hard day." Jane glared at her mother with stony blue eyes.

"Unfortunately, Jane, we don't have a home to return to. Though I think that may change soon." She looked pointedly at Lizzy.

Lizzy balled her hands into fists. Her fingernails tore at the flesh on her palms.

"She gave you 70 grand four months ago. Surely there's enough left to cover the expenses this time?" Jane suggested. She felt sick to her stomach

"Apparently not." Blood dripped from Lizzy's hands as she held her mother's gaze. "Just what makes you think I am willing to half kill myself to drag you out of poverty for the eighth time?" She ignored they stinging on her hands.

"The same reasons that made you get out that little cheque book last time."

Lizzy laughed hollowly. "Guilt trip can only get you so far, _Mother._ Someday, I'll think I've earned my forgiveness and not cover your mistakes any longer."

Her mother took a step forwards. "Do you forget what you owe to this family, Elizabeth? Can look at me and not say I've become the way I have because of you? Despite that I fed you, however unwillingly and let you grow up under my roof. Do you forget my forgiveness to you then?"

"Only to kick me out on the eve of my sixteenth birthday."

Her mother's lip twisted scornfully as she looked down at her daughter's flushed cheeks. "Pitying yourself, Elizabeth? I thought you felt more penance for your crimes to know better than to pity yourself, when you deserve no pity, no redemption from anyone. You have _no idea_ of the pain you've put me through. The pain you've subjected Jane to as well." She ignored the watery crystals sliding down Lizzy's unreadable face.

"When Jane was born, she was so sweet, so pure, so obedient. However, the very first time I saw you, I knew couldn't love you. I cannot describe how much I was filled with dread every time I held you against my chest. I tried; oh your father knew how much I tried, holding you, singing to you, hoping I would find it in my heart to love my child. But after you took my world away, I knew I should've abandoned you at the hospital on the very first day. I flinched every time I had to touch you, my stomach churned every time you called me 'Mum'." She looked disdainfully down. "If not for you, my world would be complete. It not for you, I would wake up every morning, looking forwards to the coming day. But because of _you_, I wake every morning to a cold bed, to a clawing in my heart. Every single day of my existence, I curse the day you were-"

"Shut up!" Jane's voice rang with authority. She stood in front of her twin. "Leave. Now."

"Jane, don't you see ho-" her mother started.

"How much?" came a whisper. Jane swung round.

"No, Liz, I _refuse_ to let you pay for _her_ mistakes any more. Don't-"

"Don't interfere, Jane Bennette." Mrs Nigel smirked. "It seems like self-righteous Elizabeth here has finally seen the depth of her sins. Took her 17 years."

"How much do you need?" She looked into the dark eyes of her mother. "How much this time? Say it."

"£150000," she enunciated carefully. "Money should be in notes and ready to hand over in four weeks."

Jane gasped. "You can't expect- No, that's just-"

"Fine." Lizzy's dead emotionless voice rang out.

Jane wheeled back and shook Lizzy's hard. Her skin was cold and clammy.

"No way am I letting you, Elizabeth. No way could you earn that amount of money in a four _years_, never mind four _weeks_. No, listen to me!" She looked furiously at her mother. "How _dare_ you play on her weaknesses like that! Lizzy even in her happiest of moods is consumed by guilt over an accident in the past that she couldn't control. What kind of parent are you? You drilled into your daughter's head from a young, fragile age that she was the reason for your unhappiness. Never once has she known your approval or love! And, after _seventeen years_ you still see fit to come and guilt trip her into ruining her life to clean up yours? You think I'll just sit here and watch her wasting away? It's _your_ fault she never sees fit to trust or love! It's your fault she denies every little pleasure because she feels she doesn't deserve any source of happiness. You call yourself unhappy, tormented, broken even, but never can you truthfully call yourself a mother."

"Well, as touching as that outburst was, Jane, I think some of it was lost on Elizabeth."

Jane was filled with a sense of dread. She felt a breeze caress her back. She whipped around. The front door was wide open and Lizzy was no where to be seen.

* * *

Will loosened his tie and switched over to the 10 o'clock news. He threw his head back on the cushions and closed his eyes, inhaling deeply. He caught a familiar flowery scent – and groaned. The sofa still smelt of _her_. He sighed again into the addictive scent. He heard heavy rain hit the windows insistently. It was soothing. The doorbell suddenly interrupted his reverie. He scowled. It rang again. He cursed and heaved himself up.

"What?" he snapped, hauling the door open. "Who is-" His eyed widened.

Lizzy Bennette stood breathless on his doormat. Droplets of rain rolled down her porcelain skin. Wet chestnut hair stuck to her forehead, and her teeth chattered with cold. Traces of blood were smeared across her left cheek, and across her collarbone. Her arms were wrapped around herself protectively. She was still wearing the same clothes as she had been earlier. Goosebumps spread across her exposed skin. Her eyes met his. They were pools of anguish.

"How much?" she said woodenly.

"I-er-what?"

"How much?" she repeated. Her lower lip trembled. "How much?" How much am I worth? How much?" With that, she broke down, and slid to her knees, her back convulsing with heavy sobs.


	5. The start

**A/N:** I am so sorry for the delay. I've had a hectic last few weeks of school. I've sang about a zillion Xmas carols in the last two weeks. The next time I hear the intro for Hark the Herald, I'm throwing my shoe at the stupid organist.

I wrote this chapter in about 3 hours of inspiration. So exhausted. The holidays have started now anyways, so I hope to get another two chapters out in this hols.

_Merry Christmas people! This is a little present of mine to you all. Thank you for reading!

* * *

_"So, tell me more." Richard leaned back comfortably in his seat, grinning widely.

Will rolled his eyes. "No need to act like this is grade-A entertainment for you."

"Oh, I'm not acting. I'm truly, uh, excited that shy little Willie over here is finally gonna get _laid_." Richard sniggered and ignored the evil looks Will shot him.

"For the last time, don't call me Willie," he snapped.

"Scared I'm gonna tell your new chick all the embarrassing stories of your unfortunate youth?"

"I don't have anything embarrassing to tell."

"Hmm, really? What about that time back in High School when you didn't know what a MILF was and got caught looking it up on the internet in class? And got a letter sent home?"

"Don't you dare."

"Whatever." Richard smiled seeing he had successfully made Will nervous and annoyed. "Tell me more about her."

"Well," he began thoughtfully, "she's rather… er…" _She turns me on every single time I see her. Yesterday I saw one of her magazine shoots and had to take a cold shower. Several cold showers. It was just so… _He mentally smacked himself away from that line of thought. Not now. He glanced over and saw Richard still looking at him expectantly. "Rather… nice looking. Er, very nice in general, you know?..."

"Wait, only 'nice-looking'?" Richard looked slightly put out. "Not hot, or sexy?"

Will swallowed uncomfortably and kept his eyes on the road. "Actually, she… uh… has nice… ahem, eyes…" he trailed off a little pathetically.

Richard groaned in sympathy. "I guess she's only average then," he sighed. "How many friends is she bringing today?"

"One. Her twin sister."

"Double ouch. Two boring, unsexy girls who look exactly the same." He popped a sweet into his mouth. "I feel for you, man, I really do. But, honestly, why did you get me out tonight? I'm not the best company, particularly if it's a posh, snobby place we're going to."

Will shrugged. "Try to behave, at least."

"Yes, mommy."

* * *

"Will! Richie!" The two men spotted a red head waving happily at them from a candlelit table.

"Charlie!" Richard clapped him on the shoulder as he sprawled into his chair. "You look just as fabulously ginger as ever." Charles snorted.

"Charlie." Will nodded at him as he sat down. He took care to choose the seat facing the entrance.

"So," Charlie looked excitedly at the two of them, "tell me more about her! Where did you meet? Do I know her? Is she pretty? For how long have you-"

"Save your breath, Charlie-boy. I've already given him the questionnaire, and concluded that she's a chubby, short, posh, with a snobby attitude and ridiculously expensive hair."

"Wha-really, Will?" Charlie gaped at him.

"He's exaggerating." Will fiddled with the cutlery in front of him. His eyes were glued to the entrance. He frowned. She was late.

"Then what's she really like?" Charlie insisted.

"Her name's Lizzy – Elizabeth."

Richard chuckled and leaned across the table towards Charlie. "Forget it. Look at him, he's too nervous to answer our questions."

"Richard go and curl up in some dark corner and die, will you?"

"Sure, I will. After the food comes." He grimaced. "Actually I could do with a drink" He snapped his fingers at a passing waitress.

Charlie leant forwards towards Will. "I have to say, I'm happy for you. It's good to see you open up again." He smiled proudly.

"Willie boy, your girl's late, you know that?" Richard made a face. "She must be something, if she thinks she can keep the almighty Darcy waiting."

"Yes," another faintly amused voice came, "I must be quite something, huh?"

Will jerked upright. He turned around quickly – and there she was.

She had outdone herself again. A small black number encased her narrow frame, showcasing lean, white legs, slender ankles accented by simple black heels. Her hair was swept carelessly over one shoulder, looking windswept, yet luscious. Her mesmerising eyes met his – and looked down again. She bit her lip, a flush creeping up her exposed neck. The awkwardness of their situation empowered them.

Will took action first. He placed his hand underneath her chin and raised her face towards him.

"Hello," he said quietly. She widened her eyes at the touch of his skin.

"Hi," she breathed. He nodded at her, and slipped an arm around her waist. They had a charade to keep up.

"_HOLY SHIT!"_ Richard spat his drink over the table. His head swivelled comically between Will and Lizzy's entwined figures. He gaped at Will indignantly.

"You didn't tell me it was actually_ Lizzy Bennette _the modelyou're dating!"

"You know of her?" Will replied nonchalantly. He was savouring the warmth spreading through the arm wrapped around her waist.

"Hell yeah, I know your girlfriend!" He looked outraged. "Her face is plastered all over the undergraduate student's dorms! Fuck, I must've seen a million of her swimsuit shots when I last visited their common room." He brandished the ornamental olive from his cocktail at him. "Thousands of hormonal teenagers jerk off to her picture every night!" Will winced. "Lucky sod… Christ, I can't believe it. _Lizzy Bennette_."

"Sorry about him," Will muttered to an embarrassed Lizzy. "He's just a jerk I know."

"Richard Fredericks," he announced. "Younger, more handsome cousin of this rich sod Darcy." He stuck a hand out a hand across the table, grinning widely.

"Lizzy Bennette. But I guess you already know that." She smirked at him and took his hand. "Pleasure."

"Right. And this is my other good friend, Charles Bingley." Will felt irritated as he jerked her away from Richard's lingering grasp.

"Just call me Charlie." He gave her a natural smile, his gaze somewhat distracted by something behind the brunette. Lizzy followed his curious eyes.

"Oh! Everyone, this is my twin sister, Jane." She disentangled herself expertly from Will and nudged the figure behind her forwards.

"Hello." The person called Jane gave a shy wave. Richard gave a low whistle.

"Woah. You two got some seriously good DNA."

Will had to admit that it was true. The two girls seemed to have won big time in the genetic lottery. Jane, although almost completely different from her sister, was very pretty in her own way. Where Lizzy had arrogant dark waves, Jane had a soft blonde waterfall of bouncy curls. Her eyes were a serene, tranquil blue, so different to Lizzy's piercing turbulent stare. Jane was slightly taller, blessed with more curves and seemed to duck behind her twin slightly as the three men surveyed the pair. Will took in the view – and decided he much preferred the one with the dark mess of hair, the narrow hips and scorching stare.

"Well, why don't we all sit down, drink some expensive champagne, tell each other shocking stories and badger the loaded Mr Darcy here to pay for the lot?" Richard gestured towards the table, gleefully blessing his lucky stars for coming out tonight.

Lizzy matched his smile. "Sounds excellent."

Will pulled back a chair. "After you," he said dryly. Lizzy furrowed her brow at him for a second, then sat down.

"Thank you."

He shrugged. "No problem."

"So… tell me more about yourself, the enigmatic model Lizzy Bennette." Richard ignored his menu and directed his gaze towards the brunette beside him.

"Not much to tell," she replied airily. "Or rather, I'm unsure of how to reply."

"How so?" He cocked an eyebrow at her.

"This situation is… undetermined." She inclined her head towards him conspiratorially. "If you were my next door neighbour, I'd tell you of the English undergraduate degree I'm trying to achieve, how I managed to blow up the microwave last week, what I think of our new postman. If you were a friend of mine meeting up for a chat, I'd tell you of how my manager chased me up and down Oxford Street to try and stop me eating a burger, how much I adore Hugh Grant. If you were some sleazy reporter, I'd assume it was some underhand way to ask my chest measurements." She punctuated the end of her speech with a winning smile and sipped some water.

"Well, I was assuming your answer would be something like, 'Oh, I'm just a normal girl, don't flatter me!' and flutter your eyelashes, but by all means, treat me like that sleazy reporter if you want to."

Will cleared his throat in annoyance. Lizzy glanced at him over the edge of her shoulder. Her skin looked like rich cream in the candlelight.

"Is your throat sore?" She looked amused at his 'interruption'.

"No, I just-"

"Here, some of my water." She pushed her glass up to his lips. He glared at her slightly, and took a little sip. "I hope you haven't got a cold," the back of hand brushed his forehead. He sat up at her touch. "No fever. You'll live." She smirked at him. He groaned internally. She knew he was annoyed at her and Richard's interaction. A waiter arrived, and they all ordered mutedly.

"So Jane, what do you do for a living?" Charlie's easy unaffected tone brought the other three back to attention.

"Nothing as interesting or glamorous as Lizzy, I'm afraid," the blonde laughed. "I actually haven't earnestly started working yet. I'm still learning dentistry, currently in my fourth year at dental school. But I have a part time job at an art studio, taking a junior art class. It's nothing big, mostly just for fun."

"So you're artistic?" Charlie pressed.

"She's extremely talented," Lizzy cut in, seeing Jane was struggling with modesty to give a real answer. "Come round to ours and I'll show you her paintings. They're wonderful."

"I wish I were talented," Richard said, wistfully looking up at the ceiling. "I've got nothing special about me." He heaved a great sigh.

"What's _your_ dreaded vocation then?" Lizzy demanded.

"Student. Ah, the joys of non-committed life!" He grinned wickedly at them. "I think I've got the best deal out us all."

"Majoring in what?"

"Bio-Chemistry. Postgraduate degree at Imperial College."

"That's a difficult course. And, from what I understand, Imperial is leading chemistry in the whole country."

"Yes. But I have shockingly clever brains hidden under my handsome mop of hair, so I spend all my time eating takeaway pizzas and chatting up girls." He wiggled his eyebrows suggestively.

"Eating Pot Noodles for breakfast…" Lizzy trailed off happily as well.

"No way! You do that too?" Richard feigned shock. "I thought models were always just chomping on carrot sticks, then barfing it back up."

"Also, Pot Noodles is more of a manly food," Will added. "Don't women prefer to eat pancakes or something?"

"Were you not listening to my burger story earlier? I eat just about everything, feel really guilty afterwards, get shouted at by Mike, my manager, then get punished for it by doing 100 minutes on he treadmill. And Will," she said, tossing her hair cheekily in his direction, "I don't believe there is such a thing as sexist food."

"Oh, I don't know. I always considered steak to be quite masculine," he retorted, leaning back in his chair.

"Considering I ordered that tonight, you better retract that comment."

"Did you really?" He stared at her hard. She challenged his gaze, narrowing those sultry eyes slightly. He nudged her foot lightly under the table and she stifled a laugh.

"Nope. But I wanted to."

"Considering this place serves Italian cuisine, I don't this there would be any steak on offer."

She shrugged carelessly. "You never know. These days, everything is Americanalized. The other day I went to a Spanish place to eat some paella and I got offered chips as a side dish." The table chuckled at her easy charm.

"You know, Lizzy, Will had me believe before you arrived, that you were some boring, stuck up, upper class woman with a mole on her nose."

"He's exaggerating," Charlie chimed in.

"Thanks Charlie."

"-because Will was so nervous before you came that he almost wet himself," Charlie finished, smiling benignly. Richard burst into raucous laughter.

"Here- Charlie boy, that deserves a drink."

"Thanks for your overwhelming support, Charles," Will said sarcastically. Lizzy giggled lightly. The sound sent a flash of heat over his body. _Oh God. Think cold showers._ The food arrived, and the quintet talked aimlessly for a while.

"More wine, please." Lizzy nudged her glass over to Will. He picked up the bottle and sloshed some of the dark red liquid into it. A bead of wine ran down the outside edge of the glass. A slender hand caught it, and Lizzy sucked it off her finger. She closed her eyes and savoured it. Will felt his body spasm, and stood up abruptly. The table looked at him.

"Excuse me," he muttered.

In the cool solitude of the toilet, he splashed his face with water, and leant against the sink, breathing heavily. _Why does she have that much control over me? _He smiled grimly at his reflexion. _Oh God, it's like high school all over again._

Lizzy looked up as he rejoined the table. "Are you sure you're not sick?"

"I'm fine," he responded tightly.

She regarded him for a moment, then turned back to her conversation with Richard. Will focussed very hard on the edge of his plate, not on the tantalising flash of exposed creamy skin on her back.

* * *

"Well, Richard, do you want me to take you home?" Will turned towards him.

"You know, tempting as that sounds, yet another car journey with the silent Will Darcy, I'm meeting a friend around near here, so I guess I'll just head off by myself." He clapped Will on the shoulder. "Call me next time you're going out with these charming ladies. But if it's just you going to play golf or something, don't bother. Charlie boy, night night." He turned towards Lizzy and Jane. "My ladies, it is regretful, but the Prince Charming has business to take of before he can come and rescue you from these terrifying monsters." He kissed their hands flamboyantly. "Wait for me, my darlings."

"I'm afraid I don't recognise you as my prince, Shrek," Lizzy replied cheekily.

"Ouch. That was harsh."

"I know."

"Well, farewell my people. Until we meet again." He waved cheerily at them, and set off along the street, whistling along.

"Is he drunk?" Jane eyed him doubtfully.

"Probably." Charlie held out her coat for her. "Will, you're taking Lizzy home, right?"

"What? Oh, yes, we have some things to talk about."

"Alright." He turned to Jane. "Do you mind if I take you home?" he asked softly. "It's not safe at this time of night."

"Oh! Um… yes, thank you." Jane blushed prettily, and looked desperately elsewhere.

"See you later, Jane." Lizzy smiled knowingly at her twin.

"Bye Will, Lizzy nice to finally meet you."

"Bye."

"Bye!"

Will watched the pair walk off slowly. He glanced at the girl by his side. She stood, eyes crinkling with smiles as she watched her sister walk off.

"So…" he started. She looked up at him expectantly. "Do you… want to go for a walk?" She looked away quickly.

"Alright."

The pair walked along the streets in silence. She looked thoughtful, her forehead sometimes furrowed in thought. He too was soon lost in his own train of thought as they trailed along the streets. Soon, they found themselves along the banks of the Thames.

"It's really beautiful, isn't it?" Lizzy tilted her head towards the illuminated Big Ben clock.

"Yes. It's… stunning," Will said, his gaze wandering from the clock to the figure beside him.

"I think it looks truly magical at night." She sighed slightly, shaking her head. "Who knew we'd end up here?" She looked at him directly, and he knew she didn't mean it literally.

"Today went well though."

"I know," she agreed. "Jane seemed to like you. I had to work hard over the last two weeks to make her believe we had a real relationship. I hate lying to her, though. It makes me feel terrible."

"The guys liked you too. Richard especially." Will stuck his hands in his pockets and looked out over the black water.

"He's a funny guy." There was a silence.

"So, I'm moving in tomorrow, aren't I?"

"It'll be easier this way, to keep up the story." He knew about her reluctance to leave her sister and their flat. It was the only part of their agreement she'd been reluctant to accept, but he was adamant about it. He wondered why he so wanted her to move in. It was just going to be harder for him to control his physical attraction to her. But it would make things a lot simpler, and also get rid of a lot of the negative attention still circulating around.

She shivered suddenly. Will noticed she wasn't wearing a jacket. The way she gritted her teeth together and gripped her elbows made him feel immensely protective over her. He shrugged his jacket off and laid it quickly over her shoulders. It completely swamped her. She looked up in surprise.

"Ah – you don't need to-"

"Just take it," he said quickly, cutting across her protests. "At least my shirt doesn't have a gaping hole in my back."

"Hey. It's fashionable."

He chuckled, then remembered how that patch of skin had aroused him throughout the night. And her hand on his forehead, her questioning look, her striking stare, her sexy gurgle of laughter, the sucking of the wine from her finger. Some of that had to be intentional. He cleared his throat;

"See tonight…" he dithered. "Did you- er, were you at one point trying to, you know, stimulate some kind of…"

"Of?" She looked confused.

"Some kind of response from me?"

"Like what?" She sounded truly puzzled. She rubbed her eyes with her fists. The action was adorably innocent and childlike, and made him want to hold her close. He realised that for all her witty banter, she really was still young. He smacked himself on the head for thinking she would try to deliberately arouse him. She didn't try to. She just _did_. He watched her yawn widely. She turned to face him.

He immediately stiffened.

Her eyes drooped with tiredness.

Her hair was rumpled untidily around her face.

Her lips were plump, wet and pouted.

She looked adorably tired and happy.

To put it crudely, so looked like she had just taken a great tumble.

_Here we go again._

It was going to be a tough 6 months.

* * *

Like it? Hate it? Leave me a review to tell me if you like the way my story is progressing!

Hugs and kisses and a Merry Christmas to you all!

Love from Mint xxx


	6. Play by the rules

**A/N: **I came across a very good quote the other day…

_'Love is like a Taxi. When you are looking for it, it never appears, and you are left standing in the rain, waiting impatiently for it to arrive. But just when you give up and start walking away, it appears right beside you. The only thing left, is whether or not you now have the courage to take it.'_

By the way, this is the dress I imagined Lizzy wearing in the photoshoot in this chapter. I genuinely love Alex Perry's designs!

./slides-images/imagefolder/slide-1733/IMG_

Please Enjoy!

* * *

Will tossed and turned for the zillionth time. He rubbed the nape of his neck, then sat up straight. He scowled in the general direction of her room. It was all _her_ fault he wasn't able to sleep. He'd never felt this uncomfortable in his own home before. Maybe it wasn't such a good idea have her so close.

He sighed and eventually chose to stand up, stretching out his tense muscles. It was really unsettling, knowing she was only separated from him by a thin wall, he thought, as he ambled out in search of water. He was definitely _physically_ attracted to her, but _emotionally_… he wasn't too sure. This was the girl who had shown up, looking like she'd just been involved in a drunken street fight, all bloodied and soaking, and had practically _sold_ herself to him. He shook his head. Lizzy Bennette had to be no different from the rest. It was only lust she inspired in him. Raw lust. Sensual, animal lust. He mentally slapped himself – then froze as he saw a small figure slumped over in a chair. He blinked, and inched closer.

She was at the raised kitchen counter, slumped over the worktop, fast asleep. A big black hoodie swamped her body. A pair of shorts peeked out from underneath. She frowned in her sleep, and tossed her head slightly. A ridiculously thick book lay open on the high countertop, with a hastily scribbled sheet of notes next to it.

Will dithered, unsure of what to do. He glared at her restless form. What was she doing out so late, anyway? He glanced at the opened book. It was a volume of Shakespeare's sonnets. Interested, he picked up the sheet and read her cramped handwriting.

_Sonnet LXIV_

_When I have seen by Time's fell hand defac'd  
The rich proud cost of outworn buried age;  
When sometime lofty towers I see down-raz'd,  
And brass eternal slave to mortal rage;  
When I have seen the hungry ocean gain  
Advantage on the kingdom of the shore,  
And the firm soil win of the watery main,  
Increasing store with loss, and loss with store;  
When I have seen such interchange of state,  
Or state itself confounded to decay;  
Ruin hath taught me thus to ruminate  
That Time will come and take my love away.  
This thought is as a death which cannot choose  
But weep to have that which it fears to lose._

The passage of time and the ravages of decay affect human life in unfathomable ways. What once seemed so solid, will eventually come to nothing. Time is the ultimate obstacle humanity fails to rally against. All things must come to an end – an age long philosophy of life.

Will felt a cold flash run over his skin. Her own words at the bottom were etched hard into the sheet, the scratch of her pen harshly curtailing the tails of letters. This was not the philosophy of a woman on the cusp of life; it was the words of a war-hardened veteran who has seen more than has ever cared for, who watched life pass by emotionlessly. He realised how little he actually knew of this girl, who despite everything remained an intriguing enigma. His eyes ran once more over the text.

"Amusing yourself there?" Will jumped and raised his head. Lizzy sat slowly upright, blinking a few times. He noticed dark circles forming in the hollows of her eyes.

"Interesting analysis you've got there." He handed the paper back. She took it, and skimmed through it.

"It's an underrated sonnet. I'm working on a paper arguing the importance and significance of other Shakespeare sonnets in comparison to the famous sonnet 18, which I really hate."

"Ah, the notorious, 'Shall I compare thee to a summer's day? Thou art more lovely and more temperate."

She looked at him in surprise. A small smile formed on her lips. "Yes, that one. So, what brings _you_ on your midnight stroll?"

He shrugged. "Just felt restless." He became horribly conscious he was only wearing a T-shirt and a pair of boxers.

"Me too. It feels weird here. I mean, your house is really nice and all, but I'm not really used to it yet." She grinned at him.

Will reached towards the liquor cabinet. He was going to need something stronger than a glass of cold water. He paused and turned back towards her. "Would you like a drink as well? It might help you settle down."

She shrugged. "Sure. Why not?"

He reached for the whiskey – then stopped, and grabbed the red wine. It would suit her better. "Here." He laid out two glasses, and poured the aromatic liquid into it. "Cheers."

"Cheers." She clinked her glass lightly against his. He raised the glass to his lips, and felt the drink run soothingly down his throat. He suddenly felt warmer.

"You know," he heard her start, laying her glass on the countertop, "even though we're in this agreement, and live together, I still don't know vey much about you."

"Well, what would you like to know?" Despite himself, he felt flattered. He attributed it to the time of night, and the wine.

"Let's ask each other questions. Nothing too personal, of course, just enough to get more comfortable with each other's presence." She looked at him questioningly.

"Alright." He sat down opposite her, and watched her close her book. "Who's going first?"

"You go." She leant forwards, her chin in her hands, waiting for his first question.

"Hmm… What's your favourite food?"

"Spaghetti. Any kind. I'd love to go to Italy one day, just to eat." She smiled a little guiltily. "On a scale of attractiveness from one to ten, what would you rate yourself as?"

He spluttered at her question. "I gave you a simple one!" She smirked evilly. He rolled his eyes. "Fine. Around… seven I guess."

"Come on. That's so typical."

"How is that typical? I just rated myself," he protested.

"Seven is the 'modest number'. Everyone picks seven," she explained matter-of-factly. "Most people who pick seven actually rate their own attractiveness higher than that, but think it's more appropriate, or palatable to the questioner if they appear modest and pick a pretty mundane number like seven. Six means they're too insecure, and eight seems too full of themselves. But answer truthfully."

Will groaned. "Why do you have to look into everything so carefully?" She raised an eyebrow at him.

"Alright, alright. 8 and a half." He scowled at his glass. She leaned back, pleased. "What do you consider your best physical feature?" He poured them both more wine.

"That's easy. My collarbones." She sounded pleased with herself.

Will snorted. She had so many attractive assets, yet she had to pick such a strange one. "Why?"

"I don't know. But they always look nice when I'm wearing a strapless dress. Who do you prefer, Angelina Jolie, or Scarlett Johansson?"

"Angeline Jolie. I don't know who the other one is." He watched her pout in disappointment. "Name 3 things you hate."

"Bicycles, non-cheesy pizza, oh, and lifts. I have a phobia of them."

"Of lifts?"

She nodded. "I hate lifts. Or just any small, moving, enclosed space. I have to always take the stairs," she admitted.

"Really- Wait, so today, you _walked_ up here? Walked up _26_ flights of stairs?" He gaped at her.

"Yep. I got the doorman to take my boxes up in the lift, and I tackled the stairs."

Will shook his head in disbelief. "That's crazy."

"Not crazy. Just inconvenient."

An hour later, they were still playing the game, the questions becoming more nosy with every sip of wine.

"So…" Will laughed as she slopped wine messily into her glass. "When was your first?"

"My first what?" She looked at him with mischievous eyes. She knew exactly what he meant.

"What do you think? Your first dental appointment?" He rolled his eyes.

"Let's see." She put down her glass, looking thoughtful. "I was seventeen. I was living with my aunt and uncle here in London, attending school here." She placed a finger on her chin thoughtfully. "He lived a few streets away. I think he was two years older than me. We were going out, but not seriously. It wasn't planned. We'd both had a little to drink, and wanted to experiment. I didn't enjoy it. We broke up soon after that. Not the most romantic affair." She looked at him. "And you?"

"Can't ask the same question."

"You just made that rule up." She pouted and swatted at him. "Fine. When did you first fall in love?"

"That's a tricky question." Will swivelled the wine around in the glass and probed his memory. "I don't know if it really was love, but I had a pretty serious relationship with my university girlfriend. Her name's Vanessa and we were together from our second year, to a year after we graduated. I was being shown the ropes of the business, and didn't have much time for her, so we split up on good terms. I still meet her every now and then to chat. She's a good friend. Like I said, I don't know if we were really in love, but I had more fun with her than any other girl."

Lizzy glanced over him quickly as he was talking. She sighed. She simply couldn't get over his good looks. His profile showed a sharp, chiselled jaw line, mysterious, burning eyes, a mouth forever curled into some kind of sarcastic smile. She leaned back into the chair grumpily. It would make her plans for the next 6 months so much easier if he were just a few shades less attractive.

"What did you feel, when you were with her?" she pressed.

"For a while, I was really obsessed with her, during the first few months we went out. Like, if your ask me about our first few dates, I can't remember what I ate when we went out to restaurants, but I can remember clearly what she ordered, and what she wore, and the perfume she wore. But, it was mostly infatuation and hormones, not love. I don't know for sure though."

"That's sweet." Lizzy looked enraptured by the story. "I don't think I'm capable of falling in love."

"What does that mean?"

"Nothing," she said quickly. She shook her head. "Nothing at all." She yawned exaggeratedly, and glanced at the clock on the wall. "Is that the time? I should go and try to sleep. I've got a lecture at noon tomorrow, and then I've got to meet up with Mike." She uncrossed her long legs and stood up slowly. "Night." She waved her fingers at him.

"Goodnight." She smiled, then stumbled off towards her new room.

He watched her door slowly close.

* * *

"Hola, people," Lizzy yawned as she entered the studio. "Good afternoon."

"Ready to work?" Jay the hairdresser smirked at her.

"Nope." She collapsed into a chair and swung her legs onto the counter. "I'm shattered. The professor just kept droning on and on and on and on-"

"I get the idea. Hey, get your feet away from my precious station." He slapped her ankles and hoisted her legs away.

"Sorry." She tilted her head back and sighed in satisfaction as he ran his fingers expertly through her hair.

"So… how's it going with your new man? Phil Darlington, or something."

"Will Darcy," Celia, the style co-ordinator corrected. She sighed as she inspected Lizzy's bitten nails. "Liz, what did I say about biting your nails?"

"It's a dirty, bad habit that ruins the enamel on both my teeth and nails," Lizzy reeled off. "Yeah, you've told me a million times before. Sorry."

Celia rolled her eyes. "Whatever. So, what about you and Will? What's he like in private?" she asked eagerly.

"Ehhh… We're doing good. Just fine," she said quickly, trying to avoid the details.

"C'mon," she cajoled. "Tell me a bit about your love-life. I've had a shit day, with Mike going over the photoshoot's concept to me 17 times. Amuse me," she demanded.

"I hate this subject," she mumbled, pouting her lips. "Fine. What do you want to know?"

"Is he a good kisser?" Celia pounced on her, her eyes shining. "Tell me!" she begged.

"Did you have to ask that question first?"

"C'mon, Liz! Spill the goods!" Celia ignored Jay as he shook his head at her.

"Uh, he's…" Lizzy trailed off, remembering that goddamn party. The warmness of his smooth lips on hers, how his hands had trailed up her spine, leaving her shivering in desire… She felt herself blushing. She wriggled uncomfortably. "He's adequate."

"Aww! Look Jay! Lizzy's blushing." Celia pinched her cheek. She scowled and pulled away.

"Stay _still_, Liz." Jay poked her head with a brush.

"Anyway, next question. Does he spoil you a lot? Like, buy you expensive shoes, and perfume? Does he take you to famous restaurants? Has he, like, named a star after you?"

"Cee, that's just embarrassing."

"Shut up, Jay. God, men have no sense of romance." Celia shook her head in exasperation. "So, Liz?"

"He's, um, generous. Uh, he gave me a cup of coffee this morning."

Celia shook her head. "You know that's not what I mean."

She gave up and lied. "We might be going on holiday when he has a break. Some exotic retreat," she fibbed.

"Ooh! Where?" she pressed.

"Eh… Hawaii." Lizzy said. Hawaii was exotic, right?

"Awesome! Oh, one more thing." She leaned in closer to Lizzy. "Is he… uh, you know, _well packaged down there_?"

"Cee! Ugh…" Lizzy cringed away from her.

Jay slammed his brush down. "That's it Celia, I'm going. I'll come back once you finish your sick interrogation." He squeezed Lizzy's mortified shoulder. "I feel sorry for you."

"Well?" Celia flipped her hair impatiently.

"Don't! It's embarrassing…" She stuck her face into the back of the chair.

"Don't be such a prude." Celia dragged her out with sharp nails. "Lizzy darling, brighten up my boring, unromantic life, pleeeaaassseee… Lizzy bear… is he a… _satisfactory_ size?"

Lizzy buried her face in her hands. "YES," she squeaked out, then leapt out her seat. "I gotta call to make!" she called over her shoulder, before sprinting for the exit.

Lizzy leaned against the cold concrete wall. She sighed. _Ah, that was so embarrassing… _ She touched her cheeks with the back of her hands. She was still blushing. She scrambled in her short's pockets for her phone. Sliding it open, she pressed speed dial number 5. She raised the phone to her ear.

"Hello?" The voice on the line sounded impatient.

"What am I supposed to say to them?" Lizzy hissed down the line.

"Lizzy? What are you on about?" He sounded slightly surprised she had called him.

"When the team start asking about us, do I ignore them, or make things up?" She paced the length of the narrow corridor.

"Try and stay as close to the truth as possible," he said in a bored voice. "C'mon, you're a clever girl. Surely, you don't need me to figure this out for you."

"Well, _excuse me_," she snapped, "but it's kinda hard when they start asking things like-" She broke off and blushed harder. "When they ask awkward stuff!" she concluded quickly.

"What have they asked?" He sounded like he was smirking at the phone.

"You- I- Bu-" She stuttered to a halt. "You don't want to know," she said darkly.

"They asked… how to put this, how big I am, didn't they?"

Lizzy gaped at her phone. "How did you- Wait- Not all women are that sick-minded!"

"Aw… embarrassed?" came his smug drawl. "The predictability of a woman's curiosity. So, what was your answer to your curious friend?"

Lizzy fell silent.

"Well? I'm intrigued."

"I-I just walked away."

"You're lying. I can tell by the stutter in your voice."

"Ugh!" Lizzy stomped her feet, frustrated.

"You told them I was _well-endowed_, didn't you?" He emphasised his words smugly."

"What the- Do you have a camera rigged up here, or something?" she demanded, avoiding a straight answer.

"So you did. Well, would you like to check the truth of your answer for yourself?" She could almost see his self-satisfied smile.

"You're sick," she spat. She slid the phone shut hard. "Ugh, that stupid, pompous pric-"

"Lizzy!" Mike's dishevelled hair stuck out the door. He goggled at her. "Why are you made-up yet?" he screeched. He dragged her by the wrist towards the dressing room. "The Burberry representatives are here to observe the shoot, to see if they want to contract you for their autumn campaign! Get your act together?" He hauled her in. "Understand?"

"Yes, yes, sorry." Lizzy paused. "Wait. Who's the client for today's shoot?"

"Elizabeth!"

She winced at the use of her full name. "Sorry."

He heaved a sigh. "It's Alex Perry's British line launch. You're gonna be one of the first British models to model an Alex Perry creation. Don't forget to attend his the launching of his store on Regent Street next week. And try and bring Darcy."

"Why does he have to-"

"Shut up, go let Celia slather some make-up on, and Jay curl your hair. _Hurry_." He shoved her back in firmly.

* * *

"Mike?" Lizzy stuck her head through the door. "You finished talking with them?"

"Yup. Good job today." He smiled tiredly at her. "I just sent some digital shots to Alex Perry, and he's satisfied. He says he's sorry he had to leave early. And, Burberry seems really interested. I'd say you stand a great shot. The only other candidate really is Emma Watson."

"I thought Keira Knightley was interested." Lizzy hopped into the room.

"She was. But there's some kind of conflict with the filming of her upcoming movie. All the better for us." He eyed her carefully. "I have something to say to you."

"What?" She tapped her foot. "Hey, I just came to say you did an awesome job today. Those frames were magnificent."

He gestured to the seat before him. "Sit down."

"Eh, Mike? Can I go and change first? I know this dress looks pretty, and floaty and all, but there's this kind of built in corset, and it is killing me. My lungs are crushing. Cee and Jay had to practically sow me into it."

"In a minute. I need to speak to you first."

She sighed with difficulty. "Alright. But make it quick, you've got approximately 3 minutes before my lungs collapse."

Mike cut straight to the point. "Don't get too close to him."

She frowned. "I can't help it if we become friends, Mike. We have to find some way to co-exist. After all, we _are_ living together."

"That's not what I meant. We both know that this agreement has happened because of your family's circumstances. Lizzy," he said, sitting close to her, "this guy has no conscience. He takes advantage of the fact that you have no other choice than to accept his offer, because of your mother's debt. It is highly likely he was the one that slipped you in the first place. He's like a monster."

"C'mon, Mike, he's not really as bad as that," she laughed. She tossed a stray curl back over a slim shoulder. "If anything, I should be thankful that he made me that offer so I can relieve the debt. And, he didn't take advantage of my circumstance, because he has no idea why I accepted his offer. I didn't tell him about mother. So the fact that he has been quite nice to me since we agreed upon his offer shows he's not that bad. He's still amiable to me, despite the fact he probably thinks I'm a ruthless gold-digger, eyeing his shiny Visa card. And, we kind of unconsciously made this agreement not to talk about what happened at the party. I'm not even sure I think it was _him_ who slipped me anymore."

Mike frowned lightly. She was already beginning to defend him. This wasn't good. "Listen, Liz. I got someone to make sure he wasn't doing any funny business with us-"

"You got a private investigator to _spy_ upon him?" she spluttered.

He ignored her. "-and he came back with this picture." He swivelled his monitor screen to face her. "There's this woman he often meets up with, and takes her to dinner, to the movies. She once visited him in his apartment."

Lizzy eyed the tall, tanned woman on the screen. She shrugged unconcernedly. "It's probably Vanessa, his Uni girlfriend. Anyway, he's fully entitled to have a 'real' relationship on the side. It's not like we're _really_ going out."

"What I'm trying to say it, don't fall for him. Alright, he's perfectly nice to you at the moment – he's handsome, charming and says all the right things. But he is not with you because he has affections for you. He is doing this to make the media love him, to make them believe he isn't a playboy. So, don't jeopardize everything because of him, Lizzy. Don't be sucked into his spiral, the glamorous world he lives in. This is beneficial for us, for your career, but it is essentially a contract, just like in business. Don't treat it anything more than just business."

She gave a short, hard laugh. "I won't. Since you've known me, Mike, have you ever once seen me lose control of myself completely, and open up to someone like that? You should know better than to think I'll become a crying, needy sack of hormones."

"That's my Liz." He dragged her up. "Now, if you want to go and change, go."

She gave him a sincere hug. "Thanks for the chat," she called after him."

"Pull yourself together, Liz," she told herself sternly, trudging up the last flight of stairs. Her legs ached from the combined effort of balancing in gorgeous, but deadly heels during the shoot, and 26 steep flights of stairs. "This is business. It's not your concern who he goes out with, where he is." Her thoughts wandered back to the picture on the computer screen. She pushed it quickly out her mind. Maybe that talk with Mike was just the kick she'd needed.

She searched in her giant bag for her keys. Sweatpants, textbooks, Ipod earphones, a chocolate bar… she rifled through it quickly.

The door swung open. "Welcome back," came a lazy drawl.

"How did you know I was standing outside? Don't tell me you've been opening the door every two minutes." She squeezed past him and kicked her shoes off, rubbing her ankles.

"I could hear someone scrambling in their bag outside. Lost your keys already?" He followed her into the kitchen area.

"No. They're somewhere in my bag." She scanned the contents of the fridge.

"Next time, take something remotely resembling a bag," he said, eyeing her giant black bag distastefully.

"Did you eat my jelly?" She scowled at him.

Will shrugged and wandered back into the living room area. She followed. "Tell me, what kind of twenty year old still buys jelly to eat?"

"What kind of twenty-eight year old still steals other people's food?" She flopped onto the sofa across from him. "Ah, I was so looking forwards to eating that." She massaged her aching ankles regretfully.

"Actually, I'm still twenty-seven. Not quite twenty-eight yet."

"I think we should set some rules for the time I'm here."

"Like what?" he smirked.

"Rule one – don't touch my food."

"Are you really that upset over a little bit of jelly?" he snorted.

"Actually, scratch that, don't touch my belongings in general."

"That's a good rule." He sipped some water. "It has to apply both ways, though."

She gave him a scathing look. "What, do you think I'm gonna go trash your precious room? Don't worry, your secret collection of porn is safe from me."

He glared at her.

"Rule two – We'll act the perfect couple in public. When interviewed, we'll say nice, but ambiguous things about each other. But, there's no need to upkeep the illusion in private." She brushed an imaginary strand of hair from her trenchcoat. "After all, this is purely business. Just like a contract. Just business," she added softly.

He looked at her quickly, his features hardening. "Fine," he said in a clipped voice. "Next rule."

"Rule three – There's not need to interfere in each other's private lives. We both have things I suppose we'd rather remain secret. We won't question where the other is going when we leave the house, who we meet up with, what time they'll be home unless there's a need." An image of the tall, tanned woman floated across her mind. "And also," she added quickly. "Neither of us are obligated towards the other, so we're free to have relationships on the side, as long as they remain unnoticed by the media." She offered him a small smile. _There. I've injected a freeway for you to continue your romance._

His expression shut down. He shrugged tightly. "If that's what suits you." He got up and walked towards the window. He stared out across the dark sky and yellow lights of the sprawling city. "And if one of us breaks one of the rules?"

"They get what they came in this agreement for without needing to satisfy the other." Her voice came from beside him. He looked at her. The darkness veiled her expression. He could make out the red of her pouted lips, the creaminess of the skin at the neck. The light coloured trenchcoat she wore made her eyes look lighter. "Most of the rules aren't really serious, so this only applies to if one of us has another relationship and is discovered. So, if I break that rule, I stay your girlfriend for the full duration of the 6 months, without you needing to pay me. And if you break it, I get the full monetary compensation, without needing to stay."

"If you like."

"And if you break, any of the other rules…" she placed a finger thoughtfully on her chin. She smiled devilishly at him "You have to buy me ice-cream," she said in a sing-song voice.

He chuckled internally, but remained stony. "Well good luck in your romantic endeavours then," he sneered. "Did you already have a certain someone in mind as you were formulating your rules?"

"I'm going for a shower." She turned to go. He turned back to stare at the indigo sky.

"You know… this is just a business contract. Nothing more. You're still free." He heard her say softly. "Don't let me stand between you."

"What are you-" he started.

He heard her door thud close.

* * *

Thanks to everyone who's reviewed my fanfic so far… I have taken every single one of your criticisms on board.

**Panda.193** – Thanks for liking my Jane! There's been mixed reviews about her (. poor Jane!) so I'm glad someone liked her. I'm not sure if I'll do a flashback to that scene. I'm not quite sure where to stick it in though, as I still haven't completely organised or planned it yet. So, we'll see! Sometimes it's nice to leave something to the reader's imagination… Thanks for your review

Thanks a lot everyone!

As usual, I'd love for you to review… reading them makes me so happy.

Lots of Love,

Mint xxx (everyone loving 2011 so far?)


	7. The Eye of the storm

**A/N:**

It's been a while... I'm sorry .

I'll try and be a better uploader. But this chapter was a pain. Really. I hate this chapter... because it's kind of too heavy for my liking. I've deleted it, rewrote it a gazillion times (hence why its so late.) I've got some other sections of the story done, but this particular chapter did my head in, because it wouldn't come out fluently.

So, if many don't like this chapter, I'm sorry. And I can promise that the writing standard in the next chapter will be higher. Not to make excuses, but I just had my first ever exams that will actually count towards which Uni I get into, so I'm pretty much braindead at the moment. Shattered.

Next time I should write a nice, fluffy story. Much less plot ends to tie together. Seriously, I have pages of A4 paper with all my characters written on them, and arrows indicating their connections. It's totally stressing me.

Again, so sorry. Please, enjoy! (if you can)

* * *

"…And so, she comes in really late, starts nagging me because I ate her food, made up these ridiculous 'living guidelines' and then added subtly, 'oh, by the way, I'm allowed to have relationships.'"

"She sounds like a real cracker." George's voice contained a hint of a smile.

"She's rather unique," Will admitted grudgingly.

"Come on, William, you can't lie to me. I can tell. You like her, don't you?"

"That's not important-"

"Yes it is." He cut across him. "It's very important. Right now, just for a second, admit it, okay? You like this girl, she intrigues you despite your strange relationship, you're definitely attracted to her, and you only called me to spill your guts out because arguing with her really bothers you. You wish you two were still talking, right?"

Will sighed. "Why are you so…so…"

"Clever?"

"I was going to go for persistent."

"That translates across as a fucking compliment in your stupid can't-handle-emotions Darcy speech code. Works for me." There was a pause. "So, what are you going to do to rectify the situation?"

Will shrugged, forgetting momentarily that George couldn't see him. "Nothing. There's no point."

"Suit yourself. But you should know, if you want her, you'll have to seduce her."

"S-seduce her? Wh-"

"Cheerio. I've got a very important meeting coming up in approximately 50 seconds. I've got to go and warm up my vocal chords before I go and shout at all the useless managers. Listen, good luck for whatever you're doing. And one last piece of advice, don't get just get her flowers. That's so cliché and boring, do something like– Look, someone's calling me. Gotta go." The phone went dead.

Will placed the phone down slowly. He massaged his temples. Seduce her... he scoffed. He was Will Darcy. He didn't have to seduce anyone.

Then again, it was worth a try… After all, what did he have to lose?

* * *

"Oi! Hot, freakishly leggy model!" Lizzy heard a cocky voice call her. She turned and spotted a ruggedly good-looking blonde man smirking at her from the window seat.

"You know, calling my name would have the same effect of getting my attention," she said mildly, swinging into the seat next to him with ease.

"But it's not nearly as much fun" Richard grinned lazily at her. "Hey."

"Ordered yet?" Lizzy draped her cream trench coat carelessly across the back of her seat.

"Nope. Waited for you. Say, this is a cozy little place, ain't it?" They glanced around the cramped but cheerful coffee shop.

"It's a bit smaller than you and Darcy's castles, but it does well enough for breakfast."

"Hey, hey, don't group me with that jackass," Richard held out his hands, in mock offence. "Firstly, although my manners are certainly somewhat lacking, they're not as bad as _his_. Secondly, I live like the normal poor folk, cause I'm slogging it away at Uni, remember? And thirdly, and most importantly, I am waaaay more charming than he is."

Lizzy tilted her head to one side. "You know, when you speak like that, I start to see more and more of you in him."

Richard gave a melodramatic groan and slumped over the table. "Why, why God, must I share DNA with that prick?"

She patted his arm. "Don't worry. After all, not all's lost. He's a handsome prick after all. That's got to be better than sharing genes with, say Rowan Atkinson. I mean, Mr Bean is adorable and all, but I wouldn't really label him attractive."

"Really? I don't see anything too offensive about him." He pursed his lips thoughtfully.

"Unless you swing that way, of course. Come to think of it, you did give Charlie a disturbingly tight hug at the restaurant."

"How did you know? Charlie-boy, my secret lover. You know, despite his somewhat weedy appearance, he's _deliciously_ skilled at-"

"As thrilling and, um, _stimulating_ as this conversation is," Lizzy cut in, "it also slightly disturbs me. And I'd prefer to sleep peacefully tonight, if I can."

"Rest assured, Miss Bennette, there's no sleeping peacefully when you share a dirty bed with Will Darcy." He grinned devilishly at her. "But judging from the dark circles under your eyes, I'd say you know that already. If the bunch of us ever goes on a trip together, I'll make sure I don't get the room next to yours. I don't fancy being woken up in the dead of the night by breathless moans, and a headboard continuously thumping against the wall, thank you very much."

"I don't know _what_ kind of etiquette you learned at your rich kid school, but let me teach you now – sex is _not_ a topic for the morning." Lizzy looked around for a waiter, managing to keep her blush to a minimum. As if on cue, a middle-aged waitress appeared next to their counter.

"Ready to order?"

"I'll have the cream cheese and ham bagel, with a black coffee." She handed the menu back and looked pointedly at him.

"I'll have the all-day-breakfast with an extra rack of toast, and a Darjeeling tea, please." He caught sight of Lizzy's amused stare. "What?" he said defensively, clutching his stomach. "Despite all your cruel speculation, I _am_ still a man. I need _protein_."

"Yeah, yeah. Anyways, why did you suddenly decide to text me and have breakfast together in the first place?" She re-crossed her legs as she picked up an abandoned newspaper and surveyed the headlines somewhat warily.

He shrugged, and leaned back comfortably in his seat. "Thought you might need a bit of a breather. Will is nice, but it's a bit full on and in-your-face when you live with him for the first time. Trust me, I know. I lived with him for 3 months when I forgot to pay my rent and decided to crash at his until the end of term. Such a control-freak. Scared me shitless, sometimes. Even now, I feel guilty if I don't eat cookies over the sink."

She laughed. "Ah. I've not encountered the cookie problem yet, but thanks for the heads up."

"Yeah. I actually glad that he's got together with you, although I am the _teeniest_ bit jealous that he gets to snog Lizzy Bennette senseless any time he wants."

"Trust me, participation is required on my side before that is even allowed to happen."

"He doesn't often stay with woman long enough to ask them to kip at his, so you're a special, I'll tell you that much." He winked at her. "Of course, I knew you were special from the first moment I saw your swimsuit shot."

She scowled a little at him. "That was for Vivienne Westwood's Spring/Summer Catwalk show. That was _high fashion_, not slutty Men's Health."

"Hey, I'm a dude." He held out his hands in surrender. "I don't think brands – I just see something delicious."

She sighed, and muttered something suspiciously like "Boys will be boys," under her breath.

"Though you might want to refrain from doing those kind of catwalk shows or shots at the moment. Will is the type to get quite… protective over stuff like that. Us real men," he said, thumping his chest, grinning cheekily "we don't like to share our toys."

"Great. I started off as a woman, slowly evolved into a pair of walking boobs in a bikini, and now I'm a sex toy. I should really stop talking to you."

"As if you could." He gave a sly smile. "Ah, the ladies, they just can't stay away, can they?"

"No. It appears they can't." Another tight, low voice came from the door.

Lizzy froze. Ridiculously, she felt like she would know that voice anywhere.

They swivelled around slowly, just in time to watch a tall familiar figure march resolutely back down the street.

"Oh." The small, disappointed sound escaped her lips involuntarily.

Richie writhed in his seat uncomfortably. "You should probably go and –" He gestured at the rapidly disappearing figure.

"Um, yes." She stood up rapidly. "I'll see you around," she said a little awkwardly.

"Yes." He avoided her eyes. "I'm, er, sorry about causing trouble for you. I shouldn't have–"

"It's okay. I'll get going now." Lizzy squeezed his shoulder lightly, and hurried out the shop, swinging her arms through her coat quickly.

She searched the impassive crowd a little desperately before she saw his tall frame far away. She half ran up the street, mumbling excuses as she went. She caught up with him at a street crossing.

"Hey, Will–" she began breathlessly.

"Is that what you were rambling on about last night?" A cold voice cut through her words.

"I – What?" She raised her neck to look up at him."

He glared down at her impatiently. "I don't have time to play happy families right now. Either move, or explain."

"Explain what?"

"Even if you are now allowed to have a relationship with him, is it not ridiculously risky to have a date in such a noticeable place? Should the press find out, have you not idea of how they will paint you? Paint the pair of you? Are you really so naïve as to do something as idiotic as this?"

"Listen, we were just having a late breakfast together. As _friends_." She emphasised the last word strongly. "He was actually giving me, like, advice on how to live well with you. Richie's your cousin anyway, he wouldn't do something like that to you –"

"I have a client to meet. I'll see you tonight," he cut through her halting words. He shook her hand away.

"Fine. Suit yourself," she snapped, affronted at his sudden dismissal of her. "Don't blame me for calling you a hypocrite when you start hitting on some airhead next opportunity you have."

He raised a controlled eyebrow at her. "Oh, trust me, Miss Bennette. I possess much more self control than you do. Don't worry about _me_. Look after your _own_ reputation."

* * *

"Take that centre pass again. Everyone back to position. Grace, try not to start with an overhead pass. Chest passes are faster and more effective. Okay? Now – Go!"

Lizzy sighed as she watched unenthusiastically as she watched the girls play. She didn't even bother to correct the footwork like she normally would've done. She scowled and picked at the hem of her shorts. This afternoon, he –

She shook her head and refused to go down that track. Her life was already nicely complicated, thanks to him, and the last think she needed was to bust a major artery seething over his words. In fact, she didn't care about it at –

"Hey!" She leapt to her feet unsteadily, noticing the ruckus that had broken out on the pitch. "Break it up girls." She dragged two of the girls away from each other easily. "What's going on?"

"Shannon was way too close to Jen when she tried to shoot. Obstruction." The blonde girl stuck out her chin defiantly.

Lizzy sighed. It was the same every week. "Shannon, remember you can't do that, okay? Three feet rule, right? Do that in a game, and it's a free shot, with no back cover."

Shannon nodded sulkily. "Alright," she muttered.

"Cheer up, I'll treat you girls to some ice cream if you win the next match." Lizzy attempted cheerfulness. "League cup is ours this year, right? Uh, go Blackness High!" There was an unenthusiastic response. Lizzy winced, and facepalmed herself. It hadn't even been a full year since she was a teenager herself, and yet she had completely forgotten how to act like one. "Anyway, lets get going! Centre pass to Alice's team. Where's the ball, girls?" Lizzy craned her neck around, wondering how it could've gone flying missing.

"Shannon lobbed it out the pitch."

Liz massaged her neck. Sulky, puberty ridden teenagers were awkward to interact with. "Well, someone want to get it?" she demanded impatiently.

"Missing something?" came a bored, low voice from behind her. She tensed. And turned around. Her jaw dropped open.

Will Darcy stood there in all his unfairly, blindingly handsome glory, giving her an amused smirk, and swivelling a netball lazily on one fingertip.

"How's practice going?" he asked smoothly. Lizzy reminded herself to close her mouth from the shock. She struggled to form some coherent words.

"I-uh-what are you doing here?" She studied him warily.

He shrugged. "Thought I'd come and see how you work."

Several loud titters and giggles sounded from behind her. Lizzy winced, and reluctantly turned back towards her team.

Seriously. These girls were estrogen driven. Her chest felt strange, as she watched them tuck stray wisps of hair behind their ears, and bat their eyelashes ferociously at the male in their midst.

She clapped her hands loudly, and called them to attention. "Well? We have an important match to train for. Centre pass again." The girls shifted from side to side, unwilling to unglue their eyes from the dark and handsome guy. Lizzy sighed in defeat. She turned and snatched the ball from him and threw a neat pass at the nearest girl. She caught it just in time. "Back to work. Remember the ice cream," she promised them. Grumbling, they dispersed into the pitch. Lizzy watched intently, and nodded at Alice to start the game. She saw him out her peripheral vision come to stand next to her.

"So…" he started.

"So, what?" she cut in impatiently. "Hey, Anya, don't fight with her for the ball! You're on the same team!" she yelled across the pitch. Anya gave her the thumbs up.

"Soz, Liz!" she called back.

"Soz?" He sounded somewhat bemused.

"Slang for sorry," she said briefly. "Don't tell me you don't know that. Oh wait, they didn't have mobile phones in the stone age, now, did they?" She half smirked at him, to make sure he knew she was joking.

"Nope. Didn't have cars either. I went to school in a horse and carriage," he said, looking entirely bored and serious.

They looked on in silence for a few moments. Suddenly, he took a sharp intake of breath.

"See, about today, I –"

"Stop, stop, stop!" Lizzy sighed and stuck her hands in her pockets and started stomping in the direction of the disgruntled team. "Here, this game really isn't working. We'll do some passing and dodging drills." Loud groans followed her announcement. Lizzy ignored them, and continued talking. "Divide up into group of three. Go on." There was a sudden scramble as the girls snatched at each other. "Calm down. Here, Anya, come and do the demonstration with me. Someone else, as well. Hmm…" her glittering eyes swept around the faces. Her scorching gaze settled on a tall figure at the back. "Hey, you. Come and make yourself useful."

Will looked up from his Blackberry and scoffed. "You can't be serious. I–"

"No need to be modest. We both know you love any chance to flex your muscles. Here–" She dragged him out, her small hands encircling his wrist nicely. She smirked at his glare, and turned to face the swooning crowd. "Right, this is Will Darcy, and he's gonna help me and Anya here. Right, now Anya, take the ball, and stand on that line there."

She turned to face him. "Right now, we're going to practice the feint dodge. You stand before me. Keep your hands by your side until the ball's moving. You can only stand with your back facing me, so try and keep an eye out for my movement best as you can. I've got to try and get into a space, so she can pass to me, alright?"

Will rolled his eyes. "Relax. I know what I'm doing." He yanked his tie off, and chucked his heavy coat on the ground. He turned round to smile challengingly at her. "Ready to play the game?"

Lizzy could've swore one of the girls swooned and fainted. Disciplining herself to keep her eyes averted from his muscular forearms, she pursed her lips thoughtfully. "Really? Well, demonstrate your skills then. Right, go Anya!"

Will sighed and stood in place obediently. He couldn't see her, but he could sense her presence all round him, enveloping him. Her body heat seeped through his clothes, warming the wide expanse of his back. His skin felt electric. He followed her movements, to the left, feigning to the right, slowly dithering about behind him. Her shoulder brushed against his back, her sigh fluttered the light material of his shirt. He gritted his teeth to keep his concentration. Suddenly, a very light but deliberate touch ran up from the small of his back. He stopped stock still. The hand continued to travel, grazing across his shoulder blades gently, before coming to a stop at the concave indent just about his spine. He revelled in her shy touch, her almost tentative contact.

And then it was gone.

A muted thud recalled him. He looked to his left to see her slightly flushed, triumphant, and accusingly holding a white netball.

She smiled sweetly at him, only a light, betraying blush staining her cheekbones. "Better brush up those skills if you want to come to practice again."

He could've laughed at her words. He smirked in response.

"Of course," he assured her. "Next time I'll make sure I have the… _upper hand_."

* * *

"Finished?" Lizzy looked up to see him leaning against a locker, looking strangely out of place.

"Yeah." She slung her bag over her shoulder and glanced at him quickly. "I'm gonna head home now. Coming?"

"Actually, I have somewhere I want to take you first." He eased her satchel off her, and carried it himself. "Want to come with me?"

She eyed him a little warily. Was this some kind of comeback for her little trick earlier? She hadn't meant to do it, but the smooth expanse of his back was so tantalizingly intriguing. It had looked so flawless, and secure. Her left hand tingled as she remember shielding herself from her team as she had tentatively spread her fingers over the rich material of his shirt, revelling in his solidity, the smallness and fragility of her fingers next to his muscular, well built contours, the warmth he spread to the pit of her stomach.

And then remembered she wasn't his.

She shook herself and nodded at him. "Alright," she said, in an easy tone.

"Let's go then."

"How long have you been afraid of lifts?"

The unexpected question broke through the tense silence. Lizzy uncrossed her legs and crossed her legs uneasily.

"Since I was four years old," she replied quietly.

"That long?" He took his eyes off the road, and looked at her for a moment.

"Yes."

"What started it off?"

"I got stuck in a lift for a few hours, I was so scared that I would die in there, or something."

"I see." He stared at the road thoughtfully.

"Do you have any phobias?" She inclined her head towards him.

"Well… just one." He gave a wry smile. "I really hate people hugging my neck and shoulders from behind. I get really nervous and uptight when they do."

"Ah…" Lizzy frowned. "Then today… when I got you to rehearse… did it…?"

"Oh, don't worry. That was fine." _More than fine, actually._

They sat absorbed in their thoughts for a while.

"Here." Lizzy looked up as he handed something to her. She took it curiously. It was a length of black cloth.

"What's this for?"

"I don't want to see where I'm taking you before we get there."

She prodded the cloth apprehensively with one finger. "Why?"

He gave a strange smile. "You'll see."

"It's a bit weird. Wait." She paused. "You're not going to sell me for drugs, or something dodgy, are you?"

He rolled his eyes. "Just put it on. It's a surprise."

She picked it up off her lap. The velvet material felt smooth between her fingers.

"Alright." She tied it around her eyes loosely. "Is that okay?"

She felt his hands cover his, as he tightened the knot at the back. Her arms fell limply to her sides.

"No peeking."

She scowled in his general direction. "I can't."

"Good," he replied simply. The car stopped. "Let's go."

"Eh…" she groped about for the door handle. "He had to make it difficult, doesn't he?" she grumbled.

"Here." She felt an arm encircle her waist and ease her out the car. He didn't release her.

"I can walk you know," she said tersely, all too aware of what contact with him would do to her.

She felt him shrug. "Just making sure you don't get run over. One, that would be a very sad, and nasty end. Two, I don't want to be murdered by your adoring fanboys. Three, I'd get put into jail for manslaughter."

"Yes, that would be quite a downer for your reputation, wouldn't it?" she remarked dryly.

"Certainly," he replied lazily. "Here, watch your step. There's a raised step, we're going to step on."

She shifted uneasily. "Where?"

"Here. Wait, let me –"

Her breath hitched as she felt his warm touch on her bare leg. She jerked away in shock. "What are you –"

"Just telling you where to step. Here –" He placed a hand on the back on her lower thigh and guided her foot up. She felt her foot come into contact with a surface. "Step onto there," he encouraged her. She bit her lip, and did as she was told.

"Right." He sounded amused, she thought irritably. "In about thirty seconds, you can take the blindfold off." A steadying hand remained on her shoulder.

"I still don't see the point of –"

There was a jerk, and she stumbled backwards, as she felt some kind of motion beneath them. He steadied her easily.

"Woah…" she shook her head dizzily. "Are we on a boat?"

"Why, do you get seasick?"

"Nope. Just wondering."

"You'll see where we are in just a minute." He sounded pleased.

She shot him the best dirty look she could. "It's not fair," she grumbled. "You're in charge."

"You see, Lizzy," he said in a low voice, right next to her left ear, "that's something you have to learn about me. I'm a man who _always _likes to have the _upper hand_. It's my turn now. I like being the one in control." His hands wandered negligently across her hair. A shiver ran up her spine. "I like being the… how to put this, the dominant one. The one in the driver's seat. The one pulling the strings." With a flourish, he ripped the blindfold off her eyes.

Lizzy blinked rapidly, and looked ahead interestedly. There was a pane of glass. She could see the illuminated Westminster, and the velvety darkness of the Thames. The sprawling city was illuminated by light, next to the deep indigo sky.

"Nice," she commented. She turned around. "Where ar–"

Her eyes widened. _Hell, no. _The colour drained from her already pale face. Her breathing became erratic, and her hands balled into fists. She turned her petrified gaze to his watchful face.

"_Y-you_! I-I-" She sank to her knees and squeezed her eyes shut.

"Relax, Lizzy," he said gently, placing a hand on her back.

"Don't you _Lizzy_ me," she snapped, shrugging his touch away. She took a deep breath. _It's not there if I don't look_. She inhaled through her nose, and exhaled through her mouth. And again. Her chest felt too tight, too constricted.

"I just thought I'd –"

"Why did you take me on the goddamn London Eye?" she gasped You know I h-hate lifts."

"This is different, Lizzy, it's pretty, right?" You can see London by night. There's Buckingham Palace, right there. And there's the place we went for dinner with Jane, Charles, and Richard? Here, have a look."

"I-I will _not_ have a _goddamn_ l-look, Darcy." She gritted her teeth together. "T-take me down. Now."

He knelt down beside her, resting a protective arm around her shoulders. Despite herself, she cowered in closer to him, cringing away from the glass walls that surrounded them.

"Listen, Lizzy. There's a man down there, who can bring us down as soon as you really want to. Look, there, he's right there, all we have to do is give him a wave, and he'll bring us down." His deep voice reassured her. He rubbed gentle patterns on her back. "But this is a chance for you to overcome your phobia, Lizzy, to overcome your fears." He paused. "You may think I don't know nothing about you, but I know enough to say that you're hiding a lot, deep inside. You don't tell me, or anyone about it, and I know this phobia of lifts has something to do with it. Am I right?" He noticed she had become very still. He continued, "I'm not asking you to confide anything in me, but once you can get over this fear, you'll feel better. You'll feel unburdened, light, and free. And, this is so much better than a lift, isn't it? There's no annoying strangers, it's bigger, smells nicer, and you can see the London nightlife. Great, right? Let's pretend we're simply on the top floor of a tall building, okay?" He stroked her hair. "What do you think, Lizzy? Do you want to give it a try, or do you want to go down?"

He glanced down at her huddled figure. She had a beautiful air of vulnerability, so different from the witty, independent woman she normally was. Her hair was splayed across her face, and she held the hem of his shirt so tightly her knuckles strained against her translucent skin.

Slowly, she raised her head a fraction, and nodded. "I'll give it a try," she whispered.

He smiled. "Alright. Give me you hand." He hoisted her body up easily. "Let's stand a little closer to the window. Just a little." He wrapped both arms around her slender form. She shrunk away from the windows into his chest. He held her comfortingly.

"Look there," He pointed downwards. "See the man there? That's Kieran. He'll bring us down if we wave. He's got it all under control." She shifted her head so she could peek at where he pointed. "See him?" She nodded mutely. "Right, and look there. It's Westminster. Where David Cameron and his minions count our taxes. See that?"

"Mm-hm."

"And there's the 'Gherkin'. Stupid name for a building, I think. But it looks good from here, right?"

"Yeah." Despite herself, she looked around curiously. Her hands held the rail so hard they shook, but she looked about in interest.

"Oh," she said in surprise.

"What is it?"

"It's all so pretty!" she exclaimed, looking about in childish excitement.

He sniggered at her. "See? It's not so bad, is it?"

She nodded her head in agreement. "I don't mind it so much."

"You're doing well," he commented. He shifted his hands back a little, letting her stand more independently. Suddenly, a pale hand seized his firmly. He looked up into beseeching, chocolate eyes.

"Don't let go," she pleaded.

He replaced his arm around the deep curve of her waist. "I won't. Don't worry."

Lizzy returned her gaze to the nightscape for a moment. The pit of her stomach felt very warm. She glanced down at the hand resting on her side, and almost smiled. He had a strange ability to make her feel safe, and secure. It was a security she loved. His low voice, his protective grasp made her feel shielded. It made her feel wanted. A thought suddenly occurred to her.

"Why aren't there any other people here?" she enquired.

She felt his shrug. "I hired it for tonight," he said simply.

"Y-you _hired_ it?" She craned around to gape at his calm expression. "What for? Are you going to hold a meeting here later, or something?"

He looked own at her countenance in amusement. "I thought you'd feel more comfortable if it was more private. Plus, the spectacle is better at night."

"Oh." The sound fell from her lips. She seemed to struggle with herself for a bit. "You didn't have to, you know," she said quietly.

"I know." His expression was impassive again. "I know I didn't have to. But I just did."

Lizzy fell silent for a minute. She wanted to repay him for this sudden show of kindness. For his thoughtfulness. For his protective presence. She wanted to give him something in return. She frowned as she thought.

A hand reached up to smooth out to smooth out her forehead. "Don't worry," he said. "I've got you."

"Will…" she began slowly.

"Yes?"

"Do you want to know why I really hate lifts so much?"

She saw something unreadable flash in his eyes. "Tell me."

"It was very long ago," she whispered softly. "19th November, 1994. I was four years old. That day, I wore my Cinderella dress – you know how all little girls have a Disney princess outfit? I wore mine that day. And Jane wore her Sleeping Beauty one. I always liked hers better, she had a gold tiara to go with it. Somehow that day, our dad was involved in an accident. He got hit by a truck. I was with some other relative, so I arrived at the hospital earlier than mum and Jane. When I got there, I threw up in the foyer, just out of fear. So I was handed to a kind nurse, who cleaned me up. S-She talked to me, and made me laugh. I laughed." Here, her voice pitched higher, and she began to talk faster, her words bleeding into one another. "She told me not to worry that I had thrown up on my Cinderella dress. It would come out in the wash. I remember feeling devastated about mucking up my dress – and the slippers! The little gel slippers that went with the outfit. I was upset. I-I didn't want to think about my dad. I didn't want to think about it condition. I was scared to see him like that. So the kind nurse led me to the lift, and told me to go to the fourth floor. She gave me a lollipop and told me my dad would be fine. I-I believed her. When the lift was in-between floors 2 and 3, it suddenly broke down. It wouldn't move. I was the only one in the lift. But I wasn't frightened." She gave a bitter laugh. "I wasn't worried at all. I was relieved. I didn't want to see my daddy like that. I didn't want to have that memory. So, I sat there quietly, and ate my lollipop. For about two hours, I was quiet and subdued. But then, I started to worry. What if no-one ever came to look for me? What if I was just left here to rot? What about me? I became frantic for myself. I pressed all the buttons I could find, and cried my lungs out. Eventually, the security camera guy spotted me, and told me to pull the emergency lever. I did, and arrived at the fourth floor. My mum met me. My d-dad, he was _dead_." Her voice broke, the pain seeped through, and overpowered her face. She looked wretched. "I-I never said goodbye to him. Mum and Jane did. He was on life support for an hour. I never saw his face again – it was a closed casket funeral. But, the worst thing was, I realised that during my time in the lift, I never once thought about my dad. I was too caught up thinking of myself. I didn't even say goodbye to him in my mind. I never willingly got in a lift again, it was my living hell. It was there that I- that I lost my father by myself." Tears spilled down her cheeks. She spat her words out in desperation. "He was never taken away from me. But I lost him through my own stupidity, and selfishness, and I wish – I wish-"

"Shh." Will held her very gently. "It's not your fault. You didn't know any better. I would've done the same."

She lifted her head up, and looked at him incredulously. "Y-you would've?" Her burning eyes held his, longing for some reassurance to quench the fire.

"Of course." He held the broken girl the best he could. "If I were alone, and afraid, I would've ran away as fast as I could. It's only natural."

Very slowly, she reached up, and pressed a very light kiss on the corner of his mouth. "Thank you," she whispered. "For everything. Thank you."

* * *

**A/N: **What do you think? As you know, I do not like this chapter. it's not fluent, in my opinion. But, forget what I think, and tell me you **YOU **think. See that **review **option down there? Indulge me and do it. Peee-Leeeaaaasssee. Please let me know what you think, so I can know which direction in which to write, and just so I can feel ridiculously happy reading all the good and bad comments.

If anyone is curious about the timing for the next little chappie, it is 7-10 days. I promise, this time. Please believe me ^^

Love (from a very exhausted, disgruntled, and sleep deprived)

Mint Xx


	8. The start of an unhealthy Addiction

**A/N:** Here we are again. Quickly writter chapter, written for a feel good feeling.

Can I just say, how grateful I am to all the people who have added this humble fan fic to their story alert list, favourites, and reviewed it when I updated? I cannot thank you enough.

It has been a great motivation for me to continue everytime. You are all wonderful, kind, loving people.

Without further ado, here is the newest chapter!

* * *

Lizzy threw a heavy hand over her face, as an insistent buzzing noise filled her ears. She turned to cower closer to the wall, squeezing her eyes shut to block out this unwelcome interruption. She heard a low crash come from the direction of the living room, followed by a string of curses. She frowned and tried to concentrate on finding her way back to her dream. In her dream, there had been a large hand that had caressed her skin, a handsome, chiselled face that had buried itself against the hollow of her throat, as they embraced in a glassy enclosure high above the city, looking over the darkened Thames. She had felt so shielded, sheltered – but restless. Impatient for closer contact, for his hands to wander lower, for her fingers to rake across uninterrupted skin. It had been –

A closer, explosive crash jerked her upright. She turned towards the door, scowling.

"What do you –" She broke off with a slight widening of her eyes.

He stood there testily in the threshold of her room, hair heavily tousled across his forehead, grimacing into the darkness of her room. He shifted his weight impatiently from one foot to the other. But that was not what held her attention.

She cursed the girlish wave of heat that rose to her cheeks, as she took in his bare chest. Her eyes roamed freely over the smooth planes of his tight muscles, flexing slightly as he shifted his body. She had to admit, he was very well built. Course hair partially covered his chest, adding a decidedly masculine touch. It was undoubtedly a pleasing sight.

She grinned wryly to herself. _A lovely wake up call._

It was only then she noticed the exasperated frown he wore over his face. She blinked a few times, and ran her fingers over her hair nervously.

"What's wrong?" she demanded.

He merely wrinkled his nose as he strode across the room with large strides, and grabbed her wrist.

"Some idiot wants you," he said tightly.

Lizzy frowned as she was pulled unmercilessly from the room.

"Will –"

"Look here," he spat, jabbing a finger at the illuminated intercom. His face was dark.

Lizzy peered over his arm – and cringed away.

"Shit!" she muttered. She backed away rapidly, tripping over her feet in the process. Will folded his arms, and looked her expectantly. He raised an eyebrow. "Well? Recognize him?"

Lizzy sniffed distastefully, as she eyed the intercom as though it would bite her. "It's Walter Collins." She grimaced as the name passed her lips.

Will gave a hard laugh. "With a name like Walter, I almost feel bad about telling him to bugger off."

Lizzy shook her head violently, and shot the man another dirty look. "Oh, no. It is _never_ a bad idea to tell him to go away." She promptly stopped and sneezed. Will couldn't help but chuckle at her childish traits. "He's my personal shadow. Never leaved me _alone_…"

"How flattering," Will commented acidly. But he visibly relaxed slightly.

"…that stupid little… little… _creep_," she muttered underneath her breath, as she paced around restlessly.

"Well?" Are you going to let him in, or not?" Will shook his hair forwards impatiently. It was too early on a Saturday for all this drama.

"How does he even know where I stay now?" Lizzy demanded indignantly.

Will sighed. "We're not the most lost profile people at the moment, Lizzy," he reminded her. She stuck out her bottom lip in response, and dithered, unsure of what to do, a thoughtful expression on her face.

"Can't we tell him to, as you so aptly put it, _bugger off_, until we're both awake enough to deal with this?" She turned to face him imploringly, her dark gaze holding his. Will indulged his eyes, for a moment and let them wander over her figure. The strap of her tank top had slipped off one narrow shoulder. Her shorts had hitched up sometime in the night, exposing the sleek, slender thighs. He sighed, as he finally allowed his gaze to find its way back to her face. The dark eyes sparkled with action, but her eyes were still hooded with sleep, but still maintained their signature feline appearance. Her cheeks were flushed with warmth, and her lips were swollen and full. Her dark hair spilled over her cheeks, down her slender neck, and across the whiteness of her throat. A single strand sat at the edge of her red lips, creating a startling combination of ivory skin, flushed scarlet lips, and brunette waves. He reached out and brushed the strand away. His muscles tensed as he willed his body to behave.

"Tell him to bugger off if you want," he replied stiffly.

She sucked in a sharp breath, as she reached for the intercom. "I'm gonna need you're help on this," she warned him darkly. "He's rather… rather…" She struggled to find a mild adjective. "Rather insistent," she finished with difficulty.

Will smirked down at her from his height. "Really?" He gave a sarcastic smile.

Lizzy looked gloomily at the face on screen, preening at the camera. "You haven't seen anything yet," she promised miserably, before pressing the button and activated their speaker and camera.

"Collins?" she called warily.

"Oh, Lizzy!" His face brightened, and he positively beamed. "I was wondering when you would answer. I didn't disturb you from your beauty slumber, was I?" he questioned rather anxiously, his face showing devoted concern. Will snorted, as he looked on in amusement. The man seemed slightly obsessed – but harmless enough.

"Um, I think my beauty sleep is pretty much over for the day," Lizzy replied wearily. "Listen, Collins, I'm actually a little busy at the moment. I appreciate you taking the time to call in, even if it is at –" she consulted the clock before scowling deeply, "six o' clock in the morning," she finished, her voice loosing the apologetic tone. "So, I'm afraid I can't really spend time with you at the moment. If you'd be so kind as to bugge- um, I mean, _depart_," she rushed, hastily correcting herself, "I'd be thankful for that."

The man visibly deflated. "But, Lizzy, sweetheart, I haven't seen you in so long… you moved, and I thought I had lost you, I thought I'd the light of your face would never brighten up my apartment again…"

Lizzy visibly bristled. She stabbed her hands on her hips viciously. "Listen here mate, when have I _ever_ set a _foot_ inside your apartment?"

The man called Collins looked up, hurt at this massive betrayal. "You did, Lizzy, I swear you did!" he cried in agitation. Will winced as the voice reached feminine pitches. "Remember? On that snowy day early January this year, when you came to give me the Christmas gifts I showered you with back, because your beautiful modesty wouldn't allow you to take it. So, I comforted you and your conscience – don't you remember? I held you close to me –"

"For Christ's sake!" Lizzy shot Will a silent plea for help. He merely waved an airy hand and indicated for her to continue. She turned back to the speaker. "If I remember correctly, which I'm pretty sure I do, there was definitely no holding, or any type of-of-of- _skinship_ allowed!" She glowered at the receiver so Collins could see her. "I came down to yours to yell at you, a near stranger, for having the sheer audacity to send me –" She paused suddenly, and glanced worriedly at Will, who's curiosity peaked at that moment. "To send me those things," she concluded lamely.

"Now, dear, those things were for your pleasure only –"

Will had heard enough. He glanced slyly at the agitated Lizzy before him, hair even messier, eyes sparkling even more intensely than before. It was time to put her out her misery. He stepped closer to the intercom.

"Morning," he whispered in a low voice, wrapping a strong arm around her waist from behind. He pressed a kiss softly against the sloping rise of her shoulders. He felt her breathing hitch in her chest, and grinned boyishly at the response he had managed to elicit. His lips skimmed lightly over her collarbone, and up the smooth length of her neck. He stopped with a kiss at the delicate edge of her jaw, inhaling her feminine scent. Her skin trembled, very lightly. Slowly, she shifted to her left so she could see his expression. Her eyes were unfocussed, wide and innocently confused. "Morning," he repeated, smirking very lightly.

Lizzy frowned only slightly, before answering. "Morning," she replied, scrutinizing him carefully.

A weak cough brought Will back to his initial intention. He kept his hand around her waist as he turning his attention to the slack jawed young man on screen. He a pang of remorse for him, a tiny amount. The emotion soon fled, as he felt Lizzy nestle backwards, closer to his chest, having obviously decided to play along. Her exposed skin was warm.

"Elizabeth…" Collins stared at the pair of them, his devastation obvious even through the poor quality of the camera. "What are you doing?" he suddenly screeched. They both shuddered as his voice reached an unknown frequency.

"I'm greeting my boyfriend, Walter," she replied levelly, deciding to use his given name to distract him from the shock. Will cringed inwardly at the use of the word 'boyfriend'. He was far from a mere _boy_, something Lizzy, of all people, should be aware of.

"Your boyfriend?" repeated the dumbfounded man. His lip trembled. "Since when did this happen?" He gazed at them reproachfully.

"I believe that is our own, private matter, Mr... Collins, right?" Will cut in smoothly. "But yes, Lizzy and I have been together for some while now. For a few wonderful months." He pressed another light kiss on her temple.

Collins's small eyes suddenly narrowed. "No," he almost hissed. "She is a prize that belongs to _me_! I swear to God, if you touch her again, you will pay fo- for _deflowering_ my woman."

Lizzy stared agog at the screen, her eyes wide. He did _not_ just say _deflowering_. Her shoulders racked with giggles, and she turned to smother them in his front – and remembered too late he wasn't wearing a shirt. She froze against him, her fingers spread out delicately over the contours of his chest, her face inches away from the hard muscles. He felt his fall still beneath her hands, hardly even breathing.

Thank God, the pompous idiot noticed too.

Walter Collins rapidly began turning a worrisome purple colour, as his mouth opened and closed like a fish, as he took in the pair's state of undress. A choking sound escaped his throat.

"I- you- Liz- mine-" he gurgled, veins popping on his forehead. He swallowed his saliva with difficulty. He took a deep breath.

"Have you… t-_taken_ my Lizzy? Have you d-d-_defiled _her?" he whispered.

"Seriously, I'm not _yours_, Collins –" Lizzy snapped, craning around to face him.

"Yes." Will replied simply. He caught her hand and pulled her back to him. "Yes. I have." He grinned devilishly at Collins over the top of her head. "What else would I do with my woman?" He curled a finger under her chin, and pushed her head up to face his height. "What else?" he repeated quietly. "Isn't that right, Lizzy?" He searched her eyes. She blinked rapidly, confused by this strange turn of events. He delicately lowered his mouth to her ear. "Play along," he urged. She scrutinized him confusedly one last time, before rearranging her countenance. Very deliberately, she ran a light hand down the side of his face, tangling briefly through his hair. His grip on her waist tightened.

"Indeed. What else?" she said, her low voice a perfect balance of innocence, laughter and curiosity.

Will smiled at the intercom one last time. "Now, if you'll excuse us, Lizzy and I have some… _unfinished_ _business_ to complete." He lazily brought a hand to her hair, smoothing away some stray locks. "Feel free to call around for a chat whenever we're not busy though. We'd be delighted to accept your company." He dipped his face to the crook of her neck for a quick second. "Right, Lizzy?" He gave her a slightly sarcastic smile.

Lizzy gave a fake bright smile in return. "Sure," she agreed easily. She wound an arm around his neck, her fingers slowly playing with hairs on the back of his neck. She reached on her toes, and pressed her lips to the sensitive spot behind his ear. His grip on her wrist tightened almost painfully. "I'm afraid we have to go now, Walter. Nice seeing you, and have a safe journey home," she said sweetly, flashing the camera one last smile before detangling herself from Will's embrace, and neatly pressing the off button.

Slowly turning, she regarded the shirtless man behind her warily.

He shrugged, unregretful. "You're welcome."

Lizzy's eyes narrowed slightly, at his words, before relenting. She rolled her eyes and gave him a short, mock bow. "Thank you, sir! What excellent acting skills you possess! I am quite enthralled at your exquisite portrayal! It brought tears to my eyes!"

"Nope," he corrected her, "it brought tears to _Collins's_ eyes," he finished, grinning broadly. "Poor guy," he added, unconvincingly.

"Mm-hmm. Poor guy," Lizzy echoed. They stared at each other for a moment, before she burst into laughter. Will leant back against the wall, and broke into reluctant chuckles.

"What a wake up call," Lizzy muttered, wiping tears from her eyes.

Will ran a hand through his hair. "What a wake up call indeed," he mumbled, yawning widely. He glanced at the clock. "Breakfast?"

"Please," Lizzy gasped, still doubled over. "Coffee, if we have any."

"Sure. But before I go, I am curious about one thing."

"Hit me."

"What did he send you last Christmas?" Will probed curiously.

Lizzy stopped giggling immediately. See looked at him stormily. "What a way to spoil my mood," she muttered.

Will cocked his head to one side. "Well?" He still recieved no answer. He nudged her face towards him. "Too embaressed to say anything, Lizzy?" he teased her. His deep tone made a shiver run down her body. He leant in even closer. "Well, that makes me imagination run wild. What seductive, sinful present did Collins enforce upon you to get to blush so deeply?"

Lizzy shoved him irritably away. Will looked on in satisfaction as the blush coloured her brilliantly, her face tinged with pink.

"You're not going to give me any peace till I tell you, right?" she snapped at him.

He shook his head, and waited.

She sighed. "He sent me a Santa's little helper outfit. Complete with, eh, certain, tools - no, devices - of torture for... disobediant boys." She wrinkled her nose in digust.

Will was impressed that Collins actually had some guts in him. But he refrained from voicing this, catching the murderous, yet deeply embarressed, expression on her face.

"The man couldn't help it, Lizzy. He saw it as the only way to _deflower _you."

They looked at each other and burst into laughter.

* * *

"Lizzy?" He carried the steaming mugs towards the living room area, and placed them on the coffee table carefully. "Lizzy–"

She was curled up comfortably on the sofa once more, eyes shut, head resting comfortably against the armrest, bare legs tucked up to her chin to stay warm. Her hair tumbled over the armrest, and some ran under the opening of her tank top onto her chest. Hesitantly, he reached over, and brushed this handful of hair away, his fingertips stilling, as they came into contact with the swell of her breasts. She tossed her head in her sleep, and he jerked his hand away, as if she had burned him. He could look, but he could not touch. Her full lips parted slightly, and she shifted in his direction, smiling radiantly.

Will swallowed, and clenched his teeth together tightly, and looked away from the intoxicating vision for a split second. He took several hard breaths. He walked to his room, picked up a sheet, and brought it back. He laid it over her huddled form. He smiled sardonically, before lowering his mouth to her ear again. His breath made the hair around her ears quiver.

"Who are you?" he questioned quietly. He stared at her face, oblivious in her slumber.

"Why do you continue to haunt me?" He traced a pattern on her palm thoughtfully.

"Are you even aware of what you do to me?" His voice turned huskier, the words catching in his throat.

"Why do you affect me so much?" He pondered his next words carefully.

"The events that transpired this morning… was that still simply business? For me?" He passed a hand over his face. "I don't even know the answer to that question. But this… this intangible thing we have, it's not healthy. Not for you or for me. It's not love, or even lust, or any kind of emotion, really. It's like… it's like an addiction." He gave a course laugh. "That's exactly what this is. An addiction. It can't be good for either of us. Eventually, we'll become insatiable. And then… it would be troublesome. Too many complications would arise into our already over complicated lives. You know, I wonder…" He stopped, as he brushed an uncontrollable hand up the length of her arm. "I wonder if it would be best to stop this while we still can. God, it's not like I don't enjoy it." He fell silent, savouring the silk flowing through his fingers. "But we are people who cannot afford to have any weaknesses, or vulnerabilities. God knows, I am – we are – too proud for any of that. We can't depend upon each other like that. It's not right. We came into this as a business contract. And like that it shall remain." He cupped her face into his hand. He placed a thumb over her full lips. "Business remains unchanged. It's a language we both understand." He sighed. The sound was drawn and regretful. "Like business."

* * *

"Here's the week's schedule, and the report on the progress with the merging contract. As usual, your mail's on your desk, and the representatives from the PR department and meeting you in your office in forty-five minutes." Jossette, his secretary finished her reel of information, and looked at him expectantly. "Do you need anything else?"

Will held up a finger. "Just wait a minute," he muttered, scanning the schedule intently. She waited patiently. "Can you clear everything tomorrow evening, starting four o'clock? Rearrange the monthly meeting with the shareholders."

Jossette tossed her blonde hair back. "I could manage that. But it is a little short-noticed."

Will grimaced. "I know. But do what you can."

"Is your event tomorrow night very important?" the young woman probed, leaning forwards across the desk to retrieve a few files.

"Yes. It is of utmost importance." He paused stiffly. "At least, it is for Miss Bennette, so I will be there for her, of course." It would be good to spread the word of a good relationship between them. The tabloids were growing restless for more information.

"Oh." Jossette arched a finely plucked eyebrow. "Well, I hope you will have a good night. And I will do what I can to clear the schedule."

"Thank you. That's all I need."

Jossette nodded, and walked slowly across the smooth marble floor towards the door.

"Oh, wait Jossette!" she heard her employer call. She smiled and turned around.

"Yes, Mr Darcy?"

"Can you arrange a suit fitting for me today? With the usual store. I need a new suit for tomorrow night. Book anytime after six."

Jossette carefully nodded. "Alright. Will that be all?"

"Yes." He coolly returned his gaze to the computer screen. "You are free to go now."

Jossette nodded once more. "Good day, Mr Darcy," she said, hopefully.

She received no reply.

* * *

"What you wearing tonight?"

Lizzy rolled her eyes. "If I didn't know you were a fashion photographer, I'd assume you were a queer, asking me that."

Mike snorted on the other end of the line. "Whatever. Tell me which one of Alex's dresses you picked. Remember this opening is a big event for us. You have to –"

"–dress accordingly. Yeah, I know."

"Did you try on the ones I sent over yesterday?"

She nodded. "Mm-hmm. I liked the cream one with the slashed hem, and inlaid corset. Pure white one with the bow around the waistline might be good too."

"Those are good choices. Well, I guess it's now up to what Darcy decides to wear."

Lizzy giggled. "Do you think he's actually going to wear anything other than a perfectly and dry cleaned black suit with a black tie? He has _one_ style. But he does pull it off rather well," she added thoughtfully.

"He's confirmed he's coming then?" Mike questioned sharply.

"Yup." She wrinkled her nose. "At least, I told him yesterday morning, and he just grunted. And sneezed. So I took that as a yes."

"Did you know, your popularity in unbelievable these days? We're getting more shoot offers than ever."

"Lovely," said Lizzy, without hearing what Mike had said. "I think I'm going to wear the pure white dress with that cinched in waist."

"Hmm…" Mike trailed off in thought. "Then wear your hair down – slightly tousled – and don't overdo the eye makeup. In fact, do you want me to send Celia over to do your styling?"

"No!" Lizzy sighed. The thought of Celia fussing over the apartment, and demanding to see Will threatened to bring a headache.

"Nonsense, I'm sending Jay and Celia over," Mike decided firmly. "You have to look good tonight, Liz. This is our biggest ever client. You are one of the first British women to model an Alex Perry creation! Take pride in that Lizzy! He selected _you_ to help launch his products into the UK. You have to _dress accordingly_!"

"But, Mike," she protested. "I-"

"I've got another call coming in, I'll talk to you later, Liz. I'll send Jay and Cee over at four thirty. See you tonight."

Lizzy cursed and dropped the phone. She glanced at the clock. It was 3:45. Oh God. All over the apartment, there were signs of her and Will's obvious non-coupleness. If Cee was going to be anything like she usually was, she was going to demand a grand tour. And that would mean going into rooms and seeing obvious non-sleeping-togetherness.

She had just 45 minutes to correct that.

* * *

Will entered the apartment blearily, worn out from the monthly shareholders meeting that Jossette had somehow arranged so it occurred _before_ the Aleck Merry launch party. He yawned. These things always made him sleepy. A loud bang recalled him to his surroundings. He frowned.

"Lizzy?" he called, dropping his keys onto the coffee table. He heard her swear, and realized the noise came from his room. He paused. What was she doing in there?

He walked in to see her, strangely rushing about throwing clothes around his room. He caught her by the shoulder as she scurried past. "Lizzy," he frowned. "What are you doing?" He gestured at the mess she had managed to create.

She shook her head frantically. "No time to speak," she said tersely, throwing a piece of clothing from the bundle in her arms to the floor. He followed her as she rushed out, scattering things as she ran. He waited for her to begin.

"Mike's sending the hairdresser and style co-ordinator we work with over to scrub me up for tonight," she called over her shoulder, as she rushed to the guest bedroom, where she usually slept and emptied the closet of the last of her things. "Celia – the co-ordinator – is the nosiest person you'll ever meet, even though she had a heart of gold, really. She's definitely going to poke around the apartment, and if she finds out we aren't sharing a room, there's gonna be trouble."

Will understood what she meant. "I see." He rubbed his temples, as he followed her back into his room. "I still don't see how creating havoc in my room is necessary though."

She threw him an icy glare. "I'm sorry, but I don't have time to iron and dry-clean right now. In case you didn't notice, we're operating on a tight schedule." She lugged the almost everything from the suitcase on the floor into his wardrobe. "I'll clean up this mess later."

"It's alright, I didn't mean –"

"Liz?" A shout came from the front door. They both froze, as they heard the front door latch open.

"Silly girl to not lock her door." Jay's easygoing voice sounded out.

They stared wildly at the each other, then at the half packed suitcase between them.

Will glared at it. "You do realise it looks like you're packing up, and about to run away from here right?" he hissed at her.

Lizzy's eyes widened. "Oh, bloody hell," she muttered.

"Do you think Lizzy's in her room?" she heard Jay ask.

"Let's go get her." That was Cee.

Suddenly, her head jerked up. Her cheeks burned with the thought, but she decided to act. She reached up, grabbed a surprised Will by the lapel of his jacket, and moulded her lips to his with a fiery passion, her hands found their way to his hair, as she stood up on her tiptoes, and pulled him down closer to her height. "Oh, Will," she moaned, breathily.

* * *

**A/N: **Meh, bad ending. But, if I carried on, I'd have to go onto Alex Perry's opening, and I'm saving that for next chapter.

As usual **please review!** That's all I ask...

Oh, and I have a question. Would anyone complain if I moved the rating up to 'M'? (Hint, hint, nudge, nudge) There's quite a lot of sexual tension between the two, and I'd quite like to relieve that in some future chapter (not the next one, so don't even get your hoped up yet!)

But I need to know if people are against it... So please tell me!

Love from

Mint Xx


	9. ANNOUNCEMENT

**ANNOUNCEMENT**

* * *

To my kind and dear readers;

First of all - this is not an update!

As you may have discovered, I have been neglecting this story for a while. The last time I updated was in 2011, a fair while ago.

Currently, I'm in a bit of a difficult situation regarding 'Don't make me say I Love You'. While this story was very important to me a couple of years ago, during my unplanned break from writing, I grew more and more distant from this story and eventually, there came a point where I lost affection for it.

I will try to explain. I started that story over three years ago now and frankly I've changed a lot, both as a person and as a writer. I started this story without much experience in writing, and three years later, I've changed so much as a person that I cringe when I read the first chapter. I see so many plot holes, inconsistencies, over-exaggerated drama, grammatical errors. I also don't think I characterized Lizzy and Will very well at all, although I was very proud of my creation at the time! Whenever I read it again, I see my idealistic, fifteen year old self, who had a crush on my geography teacher. All in all, it's pretty woeful.

**HOWEVER**. While there was a point where I sincerely considered deleting this story, I have consistently received so many messages of support and love from you kind, lovely people even through my two year break. Almost every week, there's someone enquiring about this story, expressing your affection for it that really, I've been floored.

I've been an irresponsible writer, an inconsiderate one. But I have resolved to complete this story - after rereading it several times, I do feel some rekindled affinity with it. And it's the least that I owe all the wonderful people who have stuck with it all these years.

The process will be slow. I will revise every chapter already posted first, tweaking things I feel are unnecessary, juvenile and irrelevant. The plot will not change though, and I hope you will find Lizzy and Will as charming as you left them.

I hope we can restart this project again together!

Thank you,

Mint.


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